


Sunset

by gayclarinet



Category: I Am Not Okay with This (TV 2020), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F, F/M, IANOWT is here bc I want some more characters, M/M, Slow Burn, Sonia isn't in it a lot bc I said so, for comedy syd and Bev don't look alike but both Stanleys do, no love triangle because we're all here for streddie, yes this is a twilight au bc im basic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayclarinet/pseuds/gayclarinet
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak moves to Forks, Washington to live with his dad. Everything is normal, until he meets perhaps the most beautiful boy he's ever seen, Stanley Uris. He gets close to both him and Richie Tozier, the son of his dad's best friend, although they both seem a bit out of the ordinary.(Or: a Streddie Twilight AU)
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Dina/Sydney Novak, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 24
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I read twilight this past month and sure, it's kind of horrible but its also REALLY good.........

Eddie, for reasons beyond his knowledge, was on a plane to Washington in the middle of the school year.   
  
Most of the reasons involved his new stepfather, Phil, who, despite being the type who was one beat away from calling him Sport at any given moment, was still a man who got under Eddie’s skin a bit. He’d go up to his room and stay for hours while his mom and Phil enjoyed their post-honeymoon bliss, something he didn’t want to look in on if he didn’t have to. 

So, in the middle of his junior year, Eddie told his mom he’d like to move up with his dad, Frank. He’d spent a few summers there as a kid, but none since he started high school. Since then, he hadn’t seen his dad for more than a week at a time. Sonia'd thrown a fit, of course, telling him that he'd get depressed, he'd get sick with all the allergens floating around, but in two months Phil had been able to calm her down a bit, remind her of how safe it'd be with Eddie living with the chief of police, and she finally relented. She had transferred his prescriptions to the local pharmacy, put two months' worth of medicine in his carryon, and made a scene in the airport that would make a rom-com character die of second-hand embarrassment. 

He got off the plane in Port Angeles and met his dad at the baggage claim, where he stood with his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight. Eddie gave him perhaps the sweatiest handshake known to man and, after collecting his suitcase, used his phone to call Sonia and tell him he got here safe while Frank drove towards Forks. 

After Eddie hung up the phone, he and Frank sat in silence for much too long. When they were ten miles outside of Forks, passing the La Push reservation, Frank snapped his fingers and said, "Forgot to tell you. I got you a truck. Figured you wouldn't want to drive to school in the cruiser, so," and he shrugged. 

"You didn't have to do that," Eddie said.   
  
"You should have something of your own, I mean."

"You shouldn't have wasted any money on me, though."

"It wouldn't be a waste, kid. I got it from Wentworth, anyway, you remember him? We used to go fishing with him and his boy, Richie."

"Yeah, I remember," Eddie said. 

"He let me have the truck for free, said it was a welcome gift for you." 

Eddie, despite himself, smiled slightly. "That's nice of him."

"Wait until you see it. I think he just wanted to save himself a trip to the junkyard."

It wasn't as horrifying of a truck as Eddie expected. It was rusted red and probably older than his dad. He turned to his dad and said, "It's nice. I really like it."

"I'll tell Wentworth when I see him again."

Eddie did nothing that day but eat and sleep. He had jet lag, despite only being an hour behind Phoenix. He ate almost an entire bag of chips, and Frank ordered a pizza for dinner. 

It was good pizza. Incredibly average, but good. 

He went to school the next day, avoiding Frank's offer to drive him _just_ this one day, so he didn't get lost ("Horrible to be late on your first day, you don't want that, do you?") and parked in the back lot. He got his schedule from the front office and went to Spanish, where he sat next to a boy named Mike Hanlon, who seemed to know him already. 

"You're Edward, right?" he said. 

"Eddie."

Mike smiled. "Don't think I'm a creep or anything. There're, like, a hundred kids. Anytime someone moves from a county away it's news. All the way from Arizona, that's a big deal."

Eddie smiled back. He sat with Mike at lunch, and with his friends, Dina and Beverly. Mike, as everyone else did, stepped around the obvious question, but Beverly asked, “Why’d you move up here?”

“Bev!” Mike said.

“I mean, it’s a good question. If you could live in Phoenix or here, where the hell would you choose?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know. Just wanted a change, I guess.”  
  
“Fair, fair.”  
  
Eddie took a bite of his sandwich and glanced around the lunchroom for a moment while they were talking about English class, how fucking _boring_ it was, when he saw the table.   
  
They were all impossibly beautiful, something from a painting or-Eddie couldn’t think very well what they looked like. He knew they were all pale, but his mind couldn’t create words for them. He could not think, could not see, could not do anything but stare at these gorgeous people. 

There were three of them. There was a girl with cropped red hair, a boy with a large jacket on, and the most beautiful creature Eddie had ever seen. 

This boy was perfect. He wore a button up shirt, and he had light, curly hair. He was extraordinarily pale, like the others, but he was something else. The other two were something to be admired; this boy was the same, if you could want to make out with a sculpture. 

Eddie stared back at his lunch tray, and after a few seconds, asked the others, “Who’re they?” He had to stop himself from singling the beautiful boy out. Best, probably, not to out himself on the first day in a tiny school. 

Mike looked where Eddie was gesturing and said, “Them? They’re Dr. Cullen’s kids, his foster kids. That’s Sydney Novak-“ he pointed to the girl “-that’s Bill Denbrough-“ he pointed to the boy in the jacket “-and that’s Stanley Uris.”   
  
The beautiful boy’s name was Stanley! Good name, perfect name, and Eddie had to resist asking Mike how to spell that so he could check how Mr. Eddie Uris looked on paper.   
  
“Why’re they sitting all the way over there?” Eddie asked. The group was sitting at a circular table much farther away than any of the others, and theirs was the only table not stuffed with high schoolers. 

“People are scared of them,” Beverly said, leaning over. “They are kinda spooky, y’know?”

“I mean, they’re nice,” Dina said. “I sat by Sydney last year, in political science, and she was pretty cool. Sort of quiet, but I did a project with her and she did most of the work, so that’s a plus to me.”

“And the other one?” Eddie asked. “Stanley?”

Mike stopped for a moment and hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know. He seems the same, sort of quiet. Now, we were-freshman English, I remember, he was sitting there and Mrs. Johnson said something about _Romeo and Juliet_ and he went off, talking about how the analysis was all wrong or something. I don’t know. He didn’t come to school for like a week after.”  
  
“Mrs. Johnson would’ve beat his ass,” Beverly said, and Dina nodded. 

Eddie tuned them out after that, glancing every few seconds at Stanley and turning back so as not to make a scene. The final time he did it, the boy looked back at him, and shit, was he hot.   
  
Eddie stared at the poster of the food pyramid directly in front of him for the remainder of lunch.   
  
After asking Dina, quickly, where Mr. Turner’s class was, he walked into Biology a minute late, and, after apologizing to Mr. Turner because he didn’t know where he was going, it’s a pretty big school and he’s really, really sorry, he hopes he didn’t interrupt anything, he sat at the only available seat, the table of which was shared by Stanley Uris.   
  
Eddie would never admit this to himself, but had there been any other empty seats, he still likely would have sat here. He was damned if he wasn’t at least going to make eye contact with the boy.   
  
He looked over at him to introduce himself, ask if it was okay if he sat here (although what choice did he have?), when the boy glared at him. He had his hand over his mouth, squeezing his nostrils shut.   
  
Eddie waved slightly at Stanley, and he nodded curtly before scooting away from him.   
  
What was wrong with him? Did Stanley think he was a pervert or something, when he saw him looking in the cafeteria? Did Eddie smell bad, all of the sudden? Had he heard them talking about them? They hadn’t said anything bad, had they? He was pretty sure they hadn’t.  
  
Eddie tried to focus on the lesson, but he couldn’t help but worry he’d done something wrong. The second the bell rang, Stanley leaped out of his seat and ran to the hall.   
  
So, in one day, he’d met a gorgeous boy who now thought he was some sort of evil creature, or something. Eddie wasn’t quite sure. All he knew was that Stanley did not like him in the least.   
  
This was cemented when he stopped in the guidance office at the end of the day to buy his parking pass (because they didn’t sell them in the morning, for some reason he’d never understand) to see Stanley Uris speaking to the counselor. 

“Please, listen-I have to switch periods. What do you need me to do?”

His voice was even great. Fuck, Eddie was gay. 

The guidance counselor shook her head. “Nothing I can do. We don’t switch periods.”

“Please?”

“I can’t make an exception. I’m sorry.”

Stanley thanked her, pursed his lips, and jumped when he saw Eddie. He stared at him for a moment, looked at the ground, and left the office. 

Stanley was gone the next day. And the next. He didn’t come back for a week. 

The next Monday, Eddie saw him again in Biology, and Stanley held out his hand. “I’ve been sick, sorry. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet. My name’s Stanley Uris.”

“Eddie Kaspbrak.”

He smiled and said, “So what have I missed? Catch me up. Are we on mitosis yet?”

Eddie had no idea what was going on, or what the hell was wrong with Stanley Uris. But now he was talking to him, and Eddie would take full advantage of that.


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie didn’t know why he expected some change of the world with his move. It was the same, essentially, as Phoenix. He could do pretty much whatever he wanted now-where Sonia had been overbearing, Frank didn’t quite care what he did-but school was the same. He went back down to Phoenix for Christmas and, when he returned to Washington, felt like a drowning man coming up for air.   
  
He joined track in his second week, because what else was there to do here? _There_ was a difference: where Phoenix had been bustling, and his old school had been in no short supply of extracurriculars, Forks High School had about three spring sports teams and maybe had some clubs, but Eddie never heard about them.

Stanley Uris was the same as Dina had described his foster sister: quiet and helpful. He made a few jokes to Eddie during biology, but he never moved to leave his lunch table with Bill or Sydney, and he always sat at the edge of his seat, away from Eddie. 

Eddie didn’t mind it anymore. He had gotten over the initial _fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_ of his mind and his slight agitation at Stanley’s ignoring him, then disappearing. 

He was a bit too quiet, Eddie thought. It made him uncomfortable, but it wasn’t as if Stanley ever ignored him. He simply answered in as few words as necessary, and Eddie couldn’t begrudge him that.   
  
Good, normal life. Everything was going fair. Eddie got a C on a calculus test, because what the fuck is a differential equation? But he was a mediocre long-distance runner, and he had friends-even more if you counted Stanley, which he tended not to. 

One morning in January, the road was icy, and Frank offered to drive Eddie to school. Eddie knew that he’d have to wait about an hour after school for Frank to pick him up, even after track, so he risked certain death in his truck.   
  
He reached the school, left his truck, and stood outside his truck for a moment trying to remember if he’d left his calculus book at home, when he saw Stanley standing at the other end of the lot with Bill and Sydney. They had perhaps the nicest car in the lot, a new Volvo, which, compared to the other junkers parked, looked like a sports car.   
  
Eddie raised his hand, and Stanley responded with a limp wave. Eddie began walking towards the school, and, in a moment, there was a flash of black and chrome. He shut his eyes and slammed into the ground. 

He sat up, to make sure he wasn’t suffocating underneath a Chevy or something. Stanley Uris was standing next to him, moving his hand slowly from the car, which was now dented to shit. 

Eddie motioned at him, at the car, at him, and tried to speak, but blood filled his mouth.   
  
He ended up at the hospital, but he didn’t remember how he’d gotten there. His nose was bandaged, and there was a cast on his right arm. His mind felt like soup.   
  
His first solid thought was _fuck_ , when he saw the doctor. He was the exact same as Stanley and his siblings: gorgeous and slightly nerve-wracking. 

The doctor smiled at him and said, “He’s pretty good, I think. No more broken bones. Close call there.”

Wild fucking man, making eye contact and speaking to Eddie as if he wasn't there. Eddie glanced to see Stanley sitting in a plastic chair at the foot of his bed, arms crossed. 

_Dumbass_. Eddie thought he might have had a concussion for a moment, he was so stupid. Of course Stanley’d be in here, the doctor was his dad. 

This probably broke a thousand patient confidentiality laws, but who cared when Stanley Uris was sitting in your hospital room?  
  
Dr. Cullen dismissed him, and Eddie walked with Stanley to the waiting room. 

"Is my dad here?" Eddie asked. 

"Not just your dad."

Eddie stopped for a minute and groaned. " _Fuck_ , who else is here?"

Stanley smiled slightly and said, "Who isn't?"

"Why? Why would anyone even be here?" 

"I think it's about fifteen people or so. Beverly Marsh's friends, a few others."

Eddie closed his eyes for a moment, willed himself to forget about it. “What happened? This morning?”

Stanley shrugged. “You almost got hit by a car, then you didn’t.” 

“But-you were there, you pushed me or pushed the car or something.”

Stanley shook his head.   
  
“You did! You did, you fucker, don’t fucking lie!”

“You also hit your head on the concrete.” He shrugged and began walking, checking to make sure Eddie was following. 

Frank took him home for the day, and he slept for thirteen hours, waking up at 1 am and staying awake the rest of the night. 

Eddie expected to have Frank drive him in the cruiser and pick up the truck from school that day, but it was sitting in their driveway. Eddie looked at his dad, who said, "That, um, Dr. Cullen's kid, the girl, she brought it over yesterday. Nice of her to do that. I didn't know you all were friends." 

_Neither did I._

So what was Stanley? Some sort of weird mutant? Was his dad a Dr. X type, a collector of special kids or something? How had Sydney gotten his truck back here? _Why_? 

Stanley acted normal at school, did nothing but sign his cast next to the giant heart Beverly drew earlier, and Eddie couldn't ask him what the hell was going on. 

He needed to stop thinking for one moment. He felt like his brain was leaking out of his ears, and he could think of nothing else but what was going on with Stanley, and his siblings too, apparently. 

Two days later, Dina said, “We’re going down to La Push tonight. They’re having a bonfire, I figured it would be fun.”

And what else did he have to do? He ended up in the backseat of Mike’s car beside Beverly, who kept taking a hit off her vape and rolling down the window to blow the smoke.   
  
They got to the reservation and walked to the beach, where a group of kids were already sitting around a large fire. Eddie worried for a moment that the wind would pick up, but it seemed calm enough for the teenagers to get dangerously close (in Eddie's opinion) to the fire. 

A boy sat close to Beverly, and Mike snagged them some s'mores supplies. Eddie took a Kleenex out of his pocket and was wiping marshmallow off his face when a boy waved to him across the campfire. He couldn't see him, but he circled the fire. Eddie recognized him as Richie Tozier, his dad's friend's son. They'd gone fishing together when Eddie visited his dad in the summer, but he hadn't seen him for a long time. 

He had grown about two feet since Eddie had seen him last, tall enough that Eddie had to look up to speak to him. His hair was in a bun, and he had chocolate on his face that Eddie resisted wiping off for him. 

"Bro! How're you doing?" Richie asked. "How is it here? How's your arm doing?"

"How do you know about my arm?"

"It's in a cast, I'm not a dumbass. Also, your dad told my dad and my dad told me to make sure you didn't re-break it or something. I don't know. I wasn't really listening."

Eddie laughed and said, "I don't think that's possible."

"No, I don't, either. I don't remember what he said though, so that sounds as good as anything."

"I suppose."

They both stood for a few seconds, saying nothing, until Richie said, "You wanna go walk or something?" 

"What?"

"I'll be honest, I'm only here 'cause I thought there'd be booze. I'm bored. C'mon, let's go walk."

They trailed the beach, Richie talking about his school and Eddie occasionally interrupting to tell him when he was being an idiot. Richie asked Eddie what was going on with him, and he talked about whatever he could think of before bringing up Stanley. 

"There's this weird kid at my school-and don't think I'm lying or anything, okay? I'm just kind of freaked out." Richie nodded. "So I _almost_ got hit by a car, you know, and I broke my arm, but that's not the important part. This kid, he was standing, like, a hundred feet away and then he was right there next to me, and-fuck, never mind."

"What?"

"Okay, he was standing next to me and he looked like he had stopped the car! Which is insane, I know. But there was a giant dent in it and nothing else could've done that, there wasn't anything there. Also he's super pale and his sister drove my car without keys or maybe she has keys, but how would she have keys?"

Richie stood with his lips pursed together before a steady stream of air hit Eddie's face and Richie began laughing. 

"It's not funny!" Eddie said. 

"Okay, okay, but listen, that's some wild ass shit."

"Don't tell anyone I told you this, okay? I really don't need Beverly or anyone making fun of me."

"I won't. But, you know what it reminds me of? There's this Quileute story, it's of these evil creatures who kept coming and killing us, whatever, who cares, but they were all, like, super strong and pale and weird. Also I think they were vampires. I can't really remember, though. The stories start seeming like the guy who wrote them was on shrooms after a while. I think in this one we were werewolves or something. The Chief was, at least." 

Eddie stood there with his eyes wide. "So you're implying that Stanley is a vampire."

"No, I'm not implying it. I'm explicitly saying it. But I don't believe the stories, at least, not that one."

"And do people?"

"Yeah, yeah, my dad believes it. We even have this treaty, all written up, where it says the vampires-"the bloodsuckers," it calls them-can't come onto our land. Man must've been really bored to make a vampire-werewolf treaty."

They started walking back to the campsite. "I can't very well lean over during Bio and ask Stanley Uris if he's a vampire."

"Weak ass."

Eddie sputtered, and Richie laughed. "Can we please change the subject from the definitely-not-a-vampire in my school?"

"Yeah, he's not a vampire." Richie raised his eyebrows. "Unless?"

"Unless what?"

"Unless?"

"Fuck you."

Soon after they got back to the group, Eddie's group left. He sat in the backseat again, nodding off, thinking of Stanley Uris dressed up like a Dracula, sucking the blood of a bystander. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this does mean Richie tozier is Native American in this story. I do not take constructive criticism (on this front lmao)
> 
> thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Eddie didn’t know what to do. 

Of course, he could leave everything be, let Stanley live his life as a vampire or an average, overly pale teenager. But, what if his family killed people? What if he could stop some unnecessary deaths? 

There were no homicides in Forks, none that he could tell, which was another bullet in the Not A Vampire column. Richie had goaded him into making it the first time Eddie drove to his house to give his dad an old fishing rod from Frank. Eddie suspected now that Richie wanted the list so he could draw cartoon vampires on the top of it, so many of them that they nearly obscured the first few reasons. 

Eddie was hanging out a lot more with Richie. He’d drive down to La Push, or, if he had too much homework to leave the house and refused to do anything besides snag a slice of pizza from his dad, Richie would bust into his room and play some horrible rock band so loud that Eddie couldn’t focus on anything else. 

Sometimes Richie would bring his friend Ben, if they were going to go out with Mike and his friends. Ben always sat next to Beverly, made quiet conversation with her. A few days later, when Eddie saw Richie again, Richie asked, “Has Beverly been talking about Ben any?”

“She might have mentioned him a bit. I didn’t pay much attention.”

“Ol’ Benny’s really got the hots for her, if you know what I’m saying.” Richie elbowed him and winked. 

“Yes, Richie, I get it.”

Richie leaned back and said, “Any leeway on your vampire?”

“Stop it. No, not really.”

He hadn’t made any headway with Stanley. They’d had a project to do together, but they stayed in the library after school and completed it instead of going to each other’s houses. 

Eddie was thinking he should cut his losses with Stanley. He was a nice guy, sure, and Eddie really really liked him, but you know who else was pretty fucking hot? Richie, and he talked to Eddie a lot, too, and Richie had also bought him some socks with the man that You Know Had To Do It To Em on there, which was a clear sign of love. You Know I Had To Do It To Em socks were basically an engagement ring. 

Eddie had lived here for two months, flirted with the idea that Stanley was a vampire ( _fucking hell_ , hear how that sounds! Is the air up here getting to you?) for a month before essentially giving up. Stanley was a cool dude that might be lying about some things. It wasn’t Eddie’s business. 

They remained casual friends, buddies that would say hi in the halls but never go out after school. Eddie did go out with a few friends from his school: Mike, Dina, and Beverly. Dina and Beverly, for example, invited him to go with them to Port Angeles, although Eddie had thought it would be a girls’ trip. 

Beverly shrugged. “Girls and Eddie trip.” 

So they were going to Port Angeles. They were going to see a movie, some indie film Dina wanted to see that wasn’t showing in Forks, and Beverly wanted to try a pho place that had just opened.

After the movie, during which Eddie barely managed to keep his eyes open during and Beverly went to get snacks about seven times, they walked around a bit, looking for the pho place, when Eddie saw a stationary store. 

It was still open, so Eddie slipped inside, promising Dina and Beverly that he would meet them at the pho place. He wandered around and ended up buying only a few colorful felt pens. He didn’t have much of a use for them, but they made him happy enough. 

He stepped out of the store and headed towards the pho restaurant, or where Beverly had thought the pho restaurant would be. He had been in the store longer than he thought: it was dark now, while the sun had only been just setting when he left his friends. 

He walked north a bit, turned right, and saw a group of four men hanging out. They were all tall, taller than him. 

Eddie knew this was the way-Beverly had said it was two blocks down from the building with the mosaic wall, and here was the building with the mosaic wall. One of them had seen him, so he walked past them, head down. 

“Hey!” one of the men shouted. Eddie kept walking. 

“Boy, hey! I’m talking to you!”

Eddie stopped and turned around. He didn’t have his keys or anything, no weapons-and how could he take on four men? But the man might have had a gun, so he stopped. 

“What’re you doing out here, all alone?” 

“I’m walking,” Eddie said. 

The men chuckled, a gross laugh. “Alright, then, boy, keep on walking.”

He scurried away, walked two blocks down and saw no pho place. He turned right, turned left, and considered going into the minute mart a block down when he saw one of the men standing in front of him. 

“You’re still out walking?”

Eddie looked behind him, and two of the men were coming up closer to him. The fourth man, he noticed, was barely a yard away from him, leaning against the wall, visible only by the butt of his cigarette. 

The man in front was closer than any of the others, now, perhaps two feet away. He looked ready to jump on Eddie, pin him down, and Eddie knew he couldn’t get out his phone, scream for help without him pouncing on him.

A beat passed. Eddie couldn’t move, couldn’t run. He considered just crumpling into a ball and crying before he heard a car squeal to a stop in front of him. The window was down, and Eddie could vaguely make out the shape of Stanley Uris. 

He jumped into the passenger seat, not caring if he had made a mistake, and the car sped away. He looked over and it was Stanley, luckily. 

He didn’t let up on the car until they reached the pho place, where he braked from 60 to rest in an uncomfortable amount of time. 

Eddie said, “I didn’t know you were in Port Angeles.”

“I wasn’t until about five minutes ago.”

Eddie stared at him for a moment until Dina and Beverly stepped out of the pho restaurant. Both he and Stanley stepped out of the car, and Dina said, “Dude, where were you?” Beverly gave Stanley a small wave, which he returned.

“Got lost. But I ran into Stanley, so he drove me here.” He couldn’t manage out a thanks; he was too shaken to say anything else. 

“Oh. Cool.” 

Beverly pointed behind her and said, “Sorry, but we already ate. I mean, we can go back in there, if you want.”

“No, no, it’s cool, it’s fine. I’ll just go home, if you all are ready to.”

“I can take you home,” Stanley said, “if you want.”

All three of them stared at him. 

“I don’t wanna be a bother,” Eddie said.

“No worries,” Stanley said. “I’m going the same place you are, and I’m a bit hungry, too. Haven’t ate dinner yet.” He offered a small smile, and Eddie turned to Dina and Beverly. 

“I’m really sorry I missed out, but is it cool if I get a ride with him? I am a bit hungry.” 

“Of course, of course,” and, after promises to hang out again soon, Dina and Beverly headed back to Forks while Stanley got them a table at a swanky little Italian place. 

Eddie ordered mushroom ravioli, one of the cheapest things on this overpriced menu, and Stanley ordered nothing. Once the waitress was gone, Eddie asked, “How did you know where I was?”

“You want the honest answer?”

Eddie nodded.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

Another nod. 

“I read their minds. Those men. I saw them leering after you, and I gunned it here before they could do anything.”

Eddie laughed. 

“I’m serious.”

"You read their minds?” said Eddie. “Read their minds.”

“Yep.”

“Okay, okay, so you can read minds. Sure. Then what am I thinking?”

Stanley crumpled the tablecloth in his hand. “That’s the thing, I can’t read your mind.”

“How convenient.”

“Yeah, I know how it sounds, and I don’t know why. It’s so fucking weird.”

Eddie had never heard Stanley curse before. He thought about it for a minute-it was easier to think about than Stanley’s saying he was a mind reader.

Eddie pointed to a man across from the restaurant, sitting across a businessman. “What’s he thinking?”

“Trying to figure out how he’s going to swindle that man-George-into his pyramid scheme. He doesn’t think he’ll be successful.”

“Okay, then, Mr. Mind Reader, what the fuck are you?”

“What?”

“Come on, humans can’t mind read. Unless you’re going to backtrack. Which one are you, mind reader or a human?”

Stanley shrugged and said, “Mind reader.”

Eddie’s ravioli came out then, and the waitress refilled Stanley’s water. Once she was gone, he said, “Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure.”

“Are-fuck,” he put his head in his hands. “Are you, like, a vampire or something?”

“Good job.”

Eddie choked on his ravioli. “A vampire?”

“Mhm.”

Eddie stared at his plate for a moment. “So, do you kill people and stuff?”

“Oh, no! No, we don’t do that. We drink animal blood and such, deer and mountain lions.” 

“We?”

“Whole family.”

Eddie shook his head, pushed his plate away from him, and said, “I can’t do it.”

Stanley seemed to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I just-man, please just take me home.”

So Stanley drove him home in record time, but Eddie didn’t know if it was because of how fast he was driving or because Eddie had fallen asleep. He slept for twelve hours that night, and the first thing he did that morning was call Richie.

“Fuck fuck _fuck fuck_ man you won’t believe it.”

“What?”

“Stanley came to Port Angeles and he said he was a mind reader but he couldn’t read my mind and then he took me out to eat-“

“He took you out to _eat_?”

“That is not the fucking point, Richie, that is nowhere near the point. Point is that I asked him what he was and then he said he was a vampire! A fucking vampire! Oh my gosh.”

Richie laughed for too long. “You know he’s messing with you.”

“I know.”

“But, still, I mean. We can always test it out.”

So they put their plan into motion. After school on Monday, Eddie stayed close to Stanley, walking with him to Eddie’s truck, where Richie was leaning against the door. When Stanley saw Richie, his face screwed up. He shook his hand anyway, showed no animosity towards him, but he quickly excused himself to walk quickly over to his family’s Volvo. 

“What were you thinking?” Eddie asked. 

“Circus music. Literally just circus music.” 

Eddie laughed, but when he saw Stanley the next day, he was humming the big top tune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here are the socks: https://www.redbubble.com/i/socks/you-know-i-had-to-do-it-to-em-with-print-effect-by-CleverJane/44712529.9HZ1B
> 
> also, like Eddie, I too am a seventeen year old boy who would leave his friends for a stationary store


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stanley barber babey

A week after Stanley’s confession, Eddie had a track meet, the first of the season. He hadn’t done too well, except in one of the relays, and once he got home he took a shower and didn’t bother to call Richie, simply laying down on his bed. 

Each night they had been calling and talking about Stanley. Eddie was of the mind that Stanley had heard Richie say what he had been thinking that day in the parking lot, but Richie didn’t think so. Once they tired of talking about Stanley-there wasn’t much to talk about beyond the craziness of it all, the likely possibility that Stanley was pulling their leg, although Richie had once mentioned how Stanley “had been pretty hot, Eddie, I sure as hell wouldn’t mind it if he bit me,” to Eddie’s embarrassment-they talked about school, boring things that seemed to hold nothing next to a lying teenage boy. 

He laid on his back, not bothering to get under the covers. He was wide awake suddenly. He could’ve ran a bit faster, could’ve beat the kid from South, but he didn’t and he didn’t get his team any points. 

_Fuck._

He was almost asleep, almost over the loss, before a knock came on his window. He sat still. He didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t do anything. 

Another knock. 

Eddie sat up slowly, one leg on the floor. Perched on his windowsill was Stanley Uris. 

Stanley waved. Eddie opened his window and said, “What the hell?”

“Hi.”

“What’re you doing?”

“I, um,” Stanley looked around himself, “this is creepy, isn’t it?”

Eddie nodded.  
  
“What time is it?”

Eddie glanced at his bedside clock and read off, “11:20.”

“Oh goodness, I’m sorry. I really didn’t realize it was this late, I promise.”

They looked at each other for a moment. Stanley remained with both legs on Eddie’s windowsill, and Eddie, for the first time, considered how he had gotten up there. He couldn’t see if there was a ladder, but he doubted it-Frank would have noticed. 

“Can I come in?” Stanley asked. 

Eddie nodded, because he hated the idea of living past age seventeen, apparently. Stanley leapt over Eddie’s bed and landed on the rug.

Eddie left the window open, sat on the edge of his bed, and said, “What are you doing here?”

Stanley wrung his hands together, shifted his weight, and sat on the rug. He looked up at Eddie and said, “You think I’m lying.”

“I mean, yeah.” 

“But-but I’m not! And your friend, Richie, he was thinking about how neither of you believed me, which, fuck.” He drew his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. “Also! I thought I asked you not to tell anyone else. You haven’t told anyone except him, have you?”

“No. But Richie’s my best friend, and we’d been joking about you being a vampire for weeks, so I had to tell him, and I don’t think he’s told anyone else.”

“He hasn’t.”

Eddie thought that it probably wasn’t a good idea to let Stanley come between him and his door, but there was still the window he could jump out of. 

“I’m really sorry,” Stanley said again. “This is creepy.”

Eddie nodded. 

“I didn’t mean it to be. It’s just-I don’t like people thinking I’m lying, I don’t like you thinking I’m lying. We’re friends, and I like-I don’t like knowing you think I’m lying to you, because I’m not.”

“Okay, then, prove it.”

That perhaps wasn’t the best thing in the world to say to a possibly vampire, possibly desperate teenage boy. He stood up and said, “Okay, okay. Um. You didn’t win your meet. Some kid from the La Push school did, and when he saw you, he thought you were too small to catch up to him or anything. And after you lost you went to the concession stand with Anna, who’s in your calculus class and also throws shot-put, and you ate so many Airheads that Anna thought you looked like an alien.”

“Fuck you!”

“Why?” Stanley looked like he would jump out of the window any second. 

“You’re fucking following me or some shit! You shouldn’t know all that stuff!”

“I wasn’t following you! I stayed home all day. I tuned into their thoughts because I wanted to know how you did at the meet.” 

Eddie held out his arm and said, “Prove it.”

“I’ve already proven it!”

“Drink my blood then, motherfucker.”

Stanley looked as if Eddie had asked him to shoot him. “No, no, we drink animal blood.”

“Make an exception!” 

Stanley inched towards the window, curling in on himself. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You come to my house in the middle of the night and you expect me to believe you’re a vampire, then you won’t do anything to prove it!”

Stanley sighed. “What about this, you come over to my house tomorrow. I’ll prove it to you then. With animal blood.”

Eddie thought for a moment. “You’ll probably just kidnap me or something.”

“I won’t, I promise. You can bring Richie if you want, show him I’m not lying too.” 

Eddie agreed, only under the condition that Stanley leave his house. He locked the window once Stanley crawled out of it and into his Volvo, then laid on his bed.

Richie picked up Eddie on Sunday, after receiving a call at four in the morning from a sleep-deprived Eddie who, after lying awake thinking about Stanley Uris creating some intricate ruse for all of his family to drink animal blood to prove something to Eddie, gave up sleeping and called Richie for his daily update. 

They drove straight for a while until they realized neither knew where they were going. Eddie called Stanley, who directed them through the woods at the other side of town and to a house that was larger than Eddie’s and Richie’s combined. It was three stories and seemed to be half made of glass. There were two cars in the driveway, but a large garage sat at the end of the road. 

Richie stared at the house. “His dad’s a doctor,” Eddie said. 

Stanley stood on the porch and waved when they got out of Richie’s junker. Richie cupped his hands around his mouth and said, “Hey, Count Stanley! Dracula! Which do you prefer?”

Stanley ducked his head, but didn’t blush, as Eddie expected. When they got close enough to hear him, he said, “Neither. Just Stanley.”

Richie crossed his arms and pouted. 

“Please don’t be freaked out,” Stanley said. “They’re-my family-they’re not used to people coming over. We don’t have many guests.” 

“The only one I haven’t met is your mom, right?” 

Stanley shook his head. “No, you haven’t met my brother.”

“Bill?”

“I’ve got another one.” He turned and headed into the house. Richie mouthed, “Who the fuck are these people?” to Eddie, who waved it off and followed Stanley. 

His parents were standing by the staircase in the foyer, looking as if they had been waiting for hours with no discomfort. Dr. Cullen was as gorgeous as he had been the same day Eddie had nearly died, and Stanley’s mom was the same, brown hair and uncomfortably pale. 

Eddie could feel Richie’s stare, but he shook both their hands. No fangs, but each had a bite scar, two punctures, near the bases of their necks. Easily doctored. 

“Are you hungry?” Stanley’s mom asked. 

“It’s ten in the morning, Esme,” Stanley said. “Richie already ate a Poptart, and I’m sure Eddie's eaten, too.”

Eddie didn’t have to look behind him to know how much terror was in Richie’s eyes. 

“C’mon,” Stanley said, “let’s see the rest of the house.”

They sure as hell were avoiding the blood drinking part. Stanley did seem a bit too enthusiastic at having other people in his home, although he straightened the rugs after Richie and kept Eddie from opening a door. 

“Murder door,” Richie whispered to Eddie. 

“No, but Esme just cleaned that room,” Stanley said. 

Stanley introduced them to his siblings. Eddie had never spoken to either Bill or Sydney, but Bill only said a quick “Hello,” before leaving the house, and Sydney asked Stanley why the hell he had two humans here.

“You know you can flirt with boys without letting them know you could easily kill them,” she said. Stanley quickly walked away. 

“C’mon, Stanny,” Richie said, “when do we get to see all the gore?” 

“In a moment,” he said. “We’re almost through.” 

He showed them his bedroom, while Eddie shoved down thoughts of what Sydney had said. 

“Can all of your family read minds?” This was suddenly a great concern of Eddie’s. 

“No, just me. Although, Sydney can tell the future. On occasion. It depends on the day.” 

Eddie decided to let that go. 

An entire wall of Stanley’s bedroom was solid glass, and there was no bed. Instead, there were stacks upon stacks of books, and the three other walls were covered with posters from the Audubon Society, images of finches and wrens and hummingbirds.

“That’s it.”

Richie began chanting, quiet enough that no one else could hear. “Blood, blood, blood.” 

They went to a room up in the attic that was filled with refrigerators. Richie and Eddie stayed a bit behind, Richie unconsciously placing a hand on Eddie’s arm. 

When Stanley flicked on the light, there was already a boy there. He was sitting on the counter, listening to a cassette tape in a new Studebaker radio, and he was drinking something out of a Sonic cup with a bendy straw. 

Perhaps most jarring was that this boy looked exactly like Stanley. Same hair, same face, same everything. His clothes were different: whereas Stanley looked like a professor born too early, new Stanley wore a pair of sweatpants and a Bloodwitch t-shirt. 

He turned off the radio, grinned, and said, “Are these your boyfriends, Stan?” 

“Shut up. Let me see the cup.”

“No! No, I’m almost done with it and are you really going to be a little bitch about it because I’m never a fucking bitch to you about your snacks but sure, take it so you can get laid.” 

Stanley made a fist, but only grabbed the cup from new Stanley and took it to Richie and Eddie. He took the plastic lid off and showed them the contents. 

It was almost congealed blood. A bit had stuck to the sides of the cup, but there was a bit at the bottom that was still liquified. It smelled strongly of metal, and when new Stanley walked over, Eddie noticed his breath smelled strongly of it. 

Stanley took a sip from the cup before handing it back to new Stanley. “Do you believe me now?”

Both Richie and Eddie nodded. They left the house quickly after that, saying their goodbyes to Stanley on the porch. When Richie was already in the driver’s seat of his car, Eddie stopped and said, “Was that your brother?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s his name?”

Stanley averted his eyes and said, “Stanley.”

“There’s an identical kid to you also named Stanley here.”

“Yep.”

“Okay.” Eddie had had all he could handle. Richie sped away and stopped at a gas station about a mile away. 

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Richie asked. 

“I have no idea.”

“So. So. Vampires exist. I bet aliens do, too. That guy might be a zombie. What’s next, werewolves? Robots?” 

“I’m sorry.”

Richie looked over. “What the hell do you have to apologize for?”

“Dragging you into this.”

Richie rubbed his nose beneath his glasses. “I couldn’t keep quiet, if I were you. I probably still won’t be able to keep quiet.” 

“You’ve gotta. Stanley and his giant ass family of vampires might come and hunt you down and suck your blood and-“ The idea that what new Stanley was drinking was human blood popped into Eddie’s mind, and, although Stanley had assured him they only consumed animal blood, he still leaned out of the car and puked on the asphalt. The man standing near them retched, and Richie pulled out of the parking lot. 

When they reached Eddie’s home, Eddie washed his face and mentioned, “Stanley said they only drank animal blood.”

Richie closed his eyes. “Good. I mean, still.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie wanted nothing more than to stay under his covers forever, and Richie seemed to want the same, as he excused himself soon after getting to Eddie’s. Eddie thought maybe he could avoid Stanley forever, get him to forget about him and maybe never suck his blood. 

But he remembered that he had school the next day, and he would be sitting within a foot of Stanley Uris. 

He was fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as much as I project myself onto Richie tozier I sure do share a lot of similarities with mr. Stanley barber   
> 1\. listens solely to cassettes not bc he thinks they're cool but bc that's all his car will play  
> 2\. weird job where he doesn't really do anything  
> 3\. walks around outside his house/on the road with no shoes/old mud shoes  
> 4\. best friend is a red head girl  
> 5\. only wears the ugliest shit he can find  
> 6\. stays in his basement


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Richie and Eddie visit Stanley's house and learn the truth about him, they avoid him-although Stanley won't let them, if he has anything to say about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kind of just forced in exposition im sorry,,,,,

That Monday, Stanley passed Eddie a note in Biology. 

_Are you good?_

Eddie nodded his head, gave Stanley a thumbs up. Stanley took the note back and scrawled, 

_I know you all are worried about it but you’re my friends. Nothing’s going to happen._

Eddie wrote back _How do you know?_

_I’ll make sure._

This didn’t fill Eddie with confidence. 

He had a missed call from Richie after track practice. He called him back and said, “Is anything wrong?”

“Just kinda freaked out.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

And this uncomfortable banner is how Eddie proceeded for a week. He skirted around Stanley and drove down to La Push once or twice, where Richie was trying his best to fix his car (and failing miserably, Eddie felt) while they avoided any mention of Stanley. 

Next Monday, Eddie gave up on sleep around eleven and decided to start a new book. Emma was the only one lying around, and he figured it would be mindless. 

There was a knock, and Eddie turned to his door before seeing it was ajar. He turned behind him and saw Stanley balanced on his windowsill. 

He opened the window and said, “Stop doing this!”

Stanley pushed by him and sat on his bed. “How else am I supposed to talk to you?” 

“You have my number. I don’t think you understand how weird it is to go inside someone’s room in the middle of the night.” His heart rate had increased since Stanley had knocked on the door, and he took a puff of his inhaler off his bedside table. 

“Well, I don’t sneak in, you let me in.”

Eddie crossed his arms. They were sitting across from each other on Eddie’s bed, and the wind blew some of his homework across the room. Stanley reached over and closed it. 

“Why do you keep coming to talk to me, huh? Richie’s just as freaked out about this as I am.”

“I don’t have to see Richie every day. I can’t go visit him, either.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a treaty between us and them, the Quileute people. We can’t go over to their land or hunt anyone, as if we’d kill humans.” He rolled his eyes at this. 

“I feel like Richie mentioned that when we started calling you a vampire.”

“He did.” Eddie glared at him and he said, “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“It is a selective thing, right? You don’t hear everyone’s thoughts all at the same time?” Stanley nodded. “So why the hell do you always listen to the people I’m around?” 

“You’re one of my two friends. I don’t want you to almost die again, like you did in Port Angeles.” 

Eddie stopped himself from asking who Stanley’s other friend was. He didn’t realize how Stanley considered Richie, given that they had only met twice. 

“I was about to die?” 

Stanley’s eyes widened. “No, no, sorry. I just mean- _fuck_.”

“I get it.”

Stanley pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them. He said, “I just don’t want you all to think I’m a freak.”

Eddie’s first thought was, _If you wanted that, you shouldn’t have told us you were a vampire_. His second thought was that it wasn’t anything Stanley could help; it wasn’t as if he had chosen it. He didn’t seem quite keen on being a vampire, preferring the mind reading parts to the blood sucking aspects. 

“I think our real issue with it,” Eddie said, “is that we don’t really understand it.”

“What don’t you understand?” He didn’t say this maliciously. 

“We don’t have any experience with this. We’re scared. Wouldn’t you be?”

“Yeah, I was. At first.”

“That’s the sort of thing I’m talking about! We want to be your friends, but we’re both terrified that you’re going to suck our blood or something.”

“I told you already, we don’t do that.”

“But there are more questions we’ve got. What about that, me and Richie get to ask you whatever we want-about vampirism, at least-and then we’ll warm up to you, stop being weird.”

“Okay. That sounds good. I’ll get Richie now, and we can come back here and everything’ll be all good. Wait, no. I can’t go over there.”

“It’s also eleven at night.”

Stanley shrugged. “He’s awake. He usually doesn’t go to sleep until pretty late.” 

Eddie side eyed him and picked up his phone. He called Richie who, after Eddie explained what was going on and asked him if it was cool to pick him up and take him to his house in the middle of the night, said, “Of course, Eds, just park on the street so you don’t wake up ol’ Tozier.”

He hung up and Stanley said, “C’mon.” 

“How do you expect to not wake up my dad?” 

Stanley looked towards the window, looked towards Eddie. “Okay, don’t freak out.”

“Can’t anymore than I already am.” 

Stanley smiled at this and opened Eddie’s window. He squatted on the windowsill and stuck his arm back inside the room. “Come on.”

“I’m going to fucking die,” Eddie said, as he turned off his lamp, got his keys, and grabbed Stanley’s hand. 

Stanley put his arm around Eddie (aren’t you glad he can’t read your mind?) and jumped off. They landed on the ground, Stanley absorbing most of the impact. 

Eddie let Stanley into his truck and pulled out. He’d gotten pretty good at driving one-handed, although he was still counting down the days (26, if everything went well) until he got his arm cast off. 

In the middle of the highway, halfway to La Push, Stanley said, “Slow down.”

“Why?” 

“I can’t go past there.” He pointed to an indeterminate spot in the forest. 

“You can’t expect me to just leave you out here,” Eddie said. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

Eddie pulled over and gave Stanley an apprehensive look. 

“I’m not going to die, Eddie. It’ll be ten minutes tops before you get back. And even if anything came to get me, I could fight it off.”

Stan’s scrawny frame seemed to disagree, but Eddie drove on, leaving Stanley standing by the edge of the road. 

Richie was already standing at the corner of his street. He jumped into Eddie’s truck and said, “What’s up, hot stuff?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“So, like, is he getting a two-for-one sale? You gonna kill me, too?”

“Richie! He just wants to tell us some stuff.”  
  
“Hasn’t he told us enough?”

Eddie looked over at Richie, who was slumped in his seat. “He just wants friends, man.” 

“Where is he?”

“He said he couldn’t come into the La Push reservation. A treaty or something.” Eddie pulled over again when he saw Stanley, who crossed the road and got into the truck, squishing Richie between him and Eddie. 

“Wait, you all actually take that treaty seriously?” Richie asked Stanley. 

“Yeah. It’s seen as a declaration of war if we go over there.” 

“But, like, you know it also mentions werewolves and shit in that treaty. You know it’s all bullshit.” 

Stanley shrugged. “Best not to chance it.” He placed his hands in his lap and said, “What questions do you all have?” 

“Are you related to the Count from Sesame Street?” Richie asked. 

“Be serious,” Eddie said. Stanley laughed a bit, if only to ease the tension in the truck. 

They were quiet for a moment. Eddie said, “How old are you?” 

“I’m 84,” and both Eddie and Richie balked. Eddie thought of the possible pedophilia of liking him, and wondered if Richie was thinking the same thing, if he hadn’t been kidding about “letting Stanley bite him.” 

“I was turned in 1953,” he said. “I was born in 1936, and Carlisle turned me when I was seventeen. In May, a tornado came through my town, Winona, Minnesota, and it tore through my mom and I’s house. She died, and I’d been struck by a car-or something from a car, I wasn’t really paying attention-and was bleeding out when Carlisle found me. He and Esme had been living in town for about a year, with Bill, and he saw I had no one else, so he turned me and took me back to his home.”

It was quiet for a moment, before Richie said, “Shit.”

“Yep. Any more questions?”

Eddie had many, but now felt like the inappropriate time to ask them. 

“I really didn’t mean to be a downer,” Stanley said. “You asked, though.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said. 

“Don’t worry about it. It was sixty-seven years ago, I hardly even remember it. Just ask some more questions.”

Eddie’s head was devoid of thought, and he thought Richie’s probably was, too. “Why are you all in Forks?”

“Quiet. Dark out, too, so we don’t have to worry about going out in the sun.”

“Why don’t you burn up in the sun?” Richie asked. 

“No idea. We burn pretty bad, though, when it’s out, so we try our best to avoid it.” 

Eddie pulled up to his house and said, “I have no idea how we’re going to get up there without waking up my dad. Are you going to climb up the walls again?”

Richie’s eyes widened, and Stanley said, “Why not just be really quiet and use the front door?”

They snuck up to Eddie’s room, tiptoeing on the stairs and giving Frank’s room a wide berth. Eddie looked out his window to make sure his truck was parked the same as it had been earlier-although he didn’t see why it mattered; he would be taking Richie home soon, anyway-when he noticed that Stanley’s Volvo wasn’t there. There was only Eddie’s truck and the police cruiser in the driveway. 

“How’d you get here?” he asked Stanley. 

“I ran.”

Richie laughed. “You ran three miles? Looks like Eddie's got a run for his money.” 

“That’s not far. Enhanced features and all that. I can run, like, seventy miles an hour. I’ve never calculated it, but I’ve gone down to Sacramento and back in the same day.”

Richie opened and shut his mouth. 

“What’s the deal with other Stanley?” Eddie asked. 

Stanley sat at Eddie’s desk, while Richie sat on the floor and Eddie perched himself on his bed. “He’s my brother. Foster, of course. You already knew that.” He stared at the ground. “He was in the hospital Carlisle was working at in 1969-“ Richie snorted “-and he was almost dead, but Carlisle turned him just because of how much he looked like me. He’d been in a car accident, and I think something happened to his head, a concussion, maybe. He didn’t remember who he was or what his name was, and by then we’d fled town, since someone might’ve came after us, and Carlisle hadn’t looked at his file-he assumed he would know what his name was. We’d been calling him Stanley Number Two, and he thought that was absolutely hilarious, so in our house, he’s Stanley and I’m Stan. He’s also got a different last name, Barber. I don’t remember how he got that one.”

“So it’s a coincidence,” Eddie said.

“Yeah.”

"Have you ever turned anyone into a vampire?"

Stanley shook his head. "Usually, turning someone into a vampire is a conscious act. You suck their blood a bit, but you poison them. We've got venom, you know. Right here," and he pointed to his teeth. "You infect them," he continued, and Eddie scooted away a bit: he wished Stanley hadn't used that word, "and they either go into extreme pain for a few weeks or die. It's a crapshoot, really."

Stanley answered most of their questions after that; the only ones he avoided were the nonsensical ones from Richie. When it turned four in the morning, Eddie dropped Richie back at his house while Stanley ran through the forest. 

And now they were a group of three. They usually met at Eddie’s house, since the other two were a bit scared of the Cullens and Stanley couldn’t go to Richie’s house. On occasion, they went to the diner in town, and on an even rarer occasion, they brought Stanley’s siblings (excluding new Stanley; that would be a bit too hard to explain) to a party with Mike, Beverly, Dina, and Ben. Bill and Sydney stayed within their little group, although they did talk to Mike and Dina, respectively. By the end of the night, Sydney was almost yelling to Dina about how the four-year PE requirement was “bullshit, complete and utter _bullshit_ ,” and Bill had impressed everyone by downing four beers and not getting the least bit tipsy. 

(Stanley informed them that he threw it up when they left the house, the same as Stanley had done the one time he drank a milkshake.)

Eddie’s track meets were each weekend now, since the season had picked up. He remained a mediocre runner, but got out of the bullshit PE requirement, so he was fine with it. They hosted a meet once, and both Stanley and Richie came. They sat under a bank’s outside tent and played Animal Crossing with Eddie for four of the five hours he didn’t do anything. 

He had gotten his cast removed, which made him a millisecond faster, but nothing to write home about. He really hated running in front of Stanley and Richie, but they insisted on coming to that one meet, and he respected that. 

They met in Eddie’s room once, near the end of March, and Richie said, “You all know that Spring Formal at my school?”

“How the hell would I know about that?” Eddie asked. He had come to terms with Stanley knowing whatever Richie was thinking. 

“I don’t know. Anyway, Ben asked Beverly and she said yes so I’m going to go alone, which is super fucking depressing. So you all should come with me.”

“Or you could just not go,” Stanley said. 

“No, I’m going. But I’m not going alone, so you’re gonna come with me.”

Stanley sat up and said, “You realize that, if I cross into La Push, it’s a declaration of war on our part?” 

“That’s all such bullshit, Stanny! I cannot believe you would pass up the chance to go to a dance with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen just because of a fake treaty.”

“It’s not fake! I was there when we signed it.”

“And how are we, a bunch of humans, going to know if you came into our land?” Richie leaned forward and grabbed Stanley’s hands. “Come on, Stan, you don’t want to be my Minecraft husband?”

Stanley laughed, and the other two did, too. Eddie didn’t know if Richie was being serious, if he wanted them to come to the dance as friends or something else, but he figured Stanley would know, and he showed no signs of anything being off about Richie’s request. 

So they went to the dance. Before Eddie left the house in one of his two suits, Frank stopped him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

“No, Dad.” 

“Alright. If it is, don’t come back pregnant.”

“I won’t.”

Eddie picked up the other two. Stanley kept his fists in his lap the entire time, occasionally looking over his shoulder. “Nothing’s going to get you, Stan,” Richie said. 

“You don’t know that.”

They arrived to the dance and skipped the pictures, heading straight for the dessert table. Eddie stuck an off-brand Oreo in his mouth and said, “Where’s Beverly?”

Richie pursed his lips. “Ben’s been acting weird lately.”

“How so?”

“He hasn’t came to school in, like, a week. He never misses, and I know he was really excited to take Beverly to the dance, but I guess he’s not here.”

Eddie shrugged. “He might have the flu, or bronchitis, or anything else.”

“No, ‘cause that’s the thing, I’ve seen him going around. He was with this guy, Paul, and he’s been cliff-diving and stuff.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raised. Ben seemed only slightly less cautious than Eddie, and not the type to blow anyone off. 

“Wait,” Richie said. He turned to Stan. “Can you see what’s been up?”

Stan hunched in on himself. “I can’t really say.”

“What?” 

“I can’t tell you. You’re not supposed to know.”

“I cannot believe this, I cannot _fucking_ believe this! Ben is my friend, and he’s dying or something, and you won’t even tell me!”

“It’s not mine to tell! He's not dying, at least.” 

“Fuck you! _Fuck you_!” and Richie stalked away. Eddie and Stanley stared at each other, and Stanley said, “Oh, shit.”

“You should’ve told him.”

“Not that. We’ve gotta go.” He grabbed Eddie’s hand and dragged him to the exit. They jumped in his truck, and Eddie floored it, for an unknown reason, until they reached the boundary line. 

“You’re fine now,” Stanley said. 

“We left Richie.”

“He’ll be fine. He was near his house.” 

Stanley was crying. He wasn’t hiccuping, but he had snot running down his face. 

Eddie stopped at the nearest store. “What’s wrong? What did you see?”

Stanley shook his head. “I can’t tell you. I can’t say it. They’ll just come after us.” 

Eddie pulled Stanley into a hug. It felt like hugging a statue, but Stanley cried for a few minutes before saying, “Please take me home.”

Richie wouldn’t answer his phone for a week. Eddie called his house, and Wentworth said, “He’s got mono.”

“Can I come see him?”

“No, sorry, son. He’s really not up for visitors.”

Eddie couldn’t fathom why Richie would shut both him and Stanley off. Eddie hadn’t done anything, and he planned on being the mediator between them. He curled in on himself every time Wentworth shut him down. Stanley wasn’t having much luck either: he seemed to shut Stanley off mentally the same way Eddie accidentally did. 

There was radio silence from Richie for two weeks, until Eddie received a text that said _Call me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> f in the chat 
> 
> please tell me if this makes any sense,,the only things ive been doing are writing this, doing schoolwork, and playing Minecraft


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After radio silence, Richie finally contacts Eddie again after two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!  
> WARNING: there are mentions of self-harm in this chapter. it's not because of depression, but at one point, to prove something, Richie does cut himself
> 
> also! I kind of go sicko mode with the pov at the end bc im dumb and hate continuity in a story

“Hey,” Richie said. 

“What the fuck, man?”

“What?” 

“You shut us out for two weeks and then you just say _hey_? Were you really that mad at Stanley?”

“Hmm?” Richie sounded tired, like it was four in the morning instead of the afternoon. “I wasn’t mad at Stan.”

“Yes you were, you lost your mind in the gym, remember? When he wouldn’t tell you what was up with Ben. And then you didn’t talk to him or me for two fucking weeks, and your dad kept saying you were sick but it just seemed too coincidental, and I thought you would at least want some visitors if you were sick so you must’ve been mad at both of us, even though I don’t know why you’d be mad at me.”

Richie slurred his words a bit, as if he was half asleep. “Oh, yeah. I was mad at Stan. For five minutes or something.”

“So why didn’t you call?”

“I’ve been sick.” 

“Mono doesn’t-you wouldn’t be out for two weeks! And you could’ve called us, or at least texted.” 

“I didn’t have mono. Who told you I had mono?”

“Your dad.”

Richie hummed. “I have something else.” 

“What? Were you in the hospital? Are you good now?”

“I stayed home. I didn’t have to go to the hospital. I have the same thing Ben has.”

“You still have it? What is it?”

“I can’t tell you, Eddie,” and Eddie thought he might be taunting him, although he sounded too tired for that. “Listen, I gotta go.” 

“You just started talking to me again! You gotta call Stanley too, tell him you’re alright.”

“Maybe later. Bye.”

Eddie stared at his phone for a minute before shouting, “Fuck!” He ran outside and drove to Stanley’s house, recounting what Richie had told him while they sat on one of the giant leather couches. 

“I know,” Stanley said once Eddie finished. 

“I thought he cut you off.”

“I got back through to him yesterday.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

Stanley looked at his lap. “I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“You forgot?” But Eddie’s voice was about to go out and he was so tired, so he dropped it. “What’s going on? What does he have?”

“It’s not mine to tell.”

“Fucking _hell_ , Stanley, are you kidding? Why are you suddenly hiding stuff from both of us?”

“I can’t tell you.” His eyes lit up. “But, you could guess and I could tell you if you’re right.” He looked over his shoulder at Esme in the dining room. “You want to go driving around?” 

They took Stan’s Volvo. Eddie said, “Give me a hint.”

“It’s a lifelong disease. Condition, sorry.” 

“Crohn’s disease?”

Stanley laughed. “No, nothing like that. Not a real condition, nothing medical.”

“Then what is it? Vampire? Did you all turn him into a vampire?”

“No! But you are getting closer. Think about the treaty. Who’s it between? Us and the Quileute people, and who are the Quileute people represented by in the treaty?”

“Werewolves, right? Oh, fuck.”

Stanley turned around and headed back towards his house.

“You’re kidding,” Eddie said. “You’re messing with me.”

“I wish I was.” 

“Fuck. Richie cannot be a werewolf. I hope you know how that sounds. Is that why he was gone? Was it a full moon recently?” 

“That actually doesn’t have anything to do with it. They’re more shapeshifters. It’s all very odd.”

“Odder than you being a vampire?”

“I think so. What do you think?”

Eddie pursed his lips. “I don’t-yeah. It’s Richie! He’s not a fucking werewolf.”

“Apparently now he is.”

Eddie imagined a wolf howling, his face framed with coke-bottle glasses. He thought of Stan crying, or rocking back and forth, when he finally got through to Richie. 

“I told him to call you,” Eddie said. “He said he might.” 

Stanley sighed. “He seems to like you a lot better than me now. I don’t even really know how he feels about you, but every time I’ve gotten in his head since I first broke through it’s been giant billboards of middle fingers.”

Eddie shook his head. Couldn’t be Richie-Richie loved Stanley, loved Eddie. 

Oh, not like that. Probably.

They arrived back at Stanley’s house. Stanley blocked him from going inside, saying, “You really need to go see him.”

“What do I say?”

Stanley shrugged. “Tell him I said hi, and I hope he’s doing well. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Okay.” Eddie felt as if he had been stepped on, mutilated. He wanted nothing more than to go into his room and cry for a few hours before sleeping it off. But he got into his truck and drove towards La Push. 

No cars were in Richie’s driveway: his dad was always at work, and Richie kept his deathtrap in the garage. Before Eddie could even shift into park, Richie was out of the house, leaning on one of the porch beams. 

“Dude!” Eddie shouted, and Richie waved. “What the fuck? Are you a-“ and he realized how this sounded, so he walked closer to Richie, close enough that Richie took a few steps back “-a werewolf?”

Richie shrunk in on himself. He had cut his hair, so it was almost buzzed off now. He seemed like he’d grown a bit in the past two weeks. “Did Stanley tell you this?” he asked. Eddie nodded, and he said, “Fuck him. _Fuck._ ”

“What?” 

“Dude, I’ve seen what they’ve done, what they can do.”

“This is Stanley, he’s our friend! He’s not going to hurt us. They don’t even-“

“They don’t even drink human blood, yada yada. Guess what? I’m not human anymore, so Stanley Uris can suck my fucking dick!” He stalked towards the back of the house, Eddie trailing him. He entered his garage and grabbed some tool, fiddling with it and sitting on a work bench. Eddie stood by the door. 

“You know what they did to us? They came and they killed us and they destroyed the fucking tribe, decimated the place. And you know the only way we could save ourselves? We turned into wolves, but even _that_ wasn’t enough to stop them! They had to eat a human to be satisfied, and you know what, Eddie? You know how good ol’ Stan doesn’t have any other friends than us? He’s going to fucking destroy us.”

“The Cullens did all this? When?”

Richie shook his head. “Years ago. Probably about a century or two. It wasn’t the Cullens, either, it was some other vampire. But just one killed so many of us, and that’s why they made us sign the treaty, that’s why I can’t talk to Stanley again. He’ll break the treaty again and come kill us.”

“You cannot believe that. Stanley. Think about who you’re talking about. Anyway, I thought you said that treaty was bullshit.”

“That was before I was a fucking dog!” Richie put his head in his hands and, in an instant, puked onto the concrete floor. He got none on his hands, so Eddie was able to lean over and drag him out of there. 

He slumped on the ground outside. “I keep doing that. It’s just disgusting, you know? Turning into an animal, having to shit like an animal, walking like an animal.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Yeah.”

“I-I do like Stan, Eddie. He’s a good guy. But they’re supposed to be our ‘mortal enemies’ or whatever. They already kicked my ass when they found out I’d been hanging out with him before.”

“Who?”

“The rest of the pack. Sam Uley and his friends. There are about seven of us down here.”

“Why’d you tell them?”

“I didn’t, that’s the issue. When you’re like that, in that form, everyone can read your thoughts. In the pack, I mean. Makes jerking off a hell of a lot harder.” He laughed. 

Eddie jerked up. “Wait, Ben?”

Richie nodded. 

“He’s a werewolf. _Ben._ ” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Eddie hummed. “Weird. Weird weird shit down here.”

“It’s a genetic thing,” Richie said. “So don’t worry about me biting you or anything. I mean, I might, but it won’t turn you into a werewolf.” He winked. 

That wasn’t even a thought in Eddie’s head. He was only trying to figure out how Stanley and Richie could reconcile. 

“So you don’t really know how to adjust to this,” Eddie said. 

“Why do you wanna know, Dr. Phil?”

“Maybe if you talked to someone about it, someone who’s been through something similar.”

“I’ve got the pack. Everyone else’s gone through the same thing.”

“But aren’t they all relatively young?”

“Sam’s been a werewolf for three years or something.”

“And do you like Sam?”

Richie screwed up his face. 

“Okay, so what if you talked about it with someone with years of experience who you already liked?”

“Stanley?”

“Yes, fuck, you should’ve gotten that, like, five minutes ago.”

Richie put his head in his hands. “I told you, they’ll get mad when I phase again. They can hear everything I’ve done since then.”

“You can’t block them out, like Stanley?” Richie shook his head. “Okay, so they know that you hang out with a vampire. What’re they going to do to you?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Then who gives a shit? They’re not going to kill you. Will they hurt you?”

“I mean, maybe, but-watch this!” Richie got up and ran inside the house. He brought a steak knife out and stood about a yard from Eddie. “Do you faint at blood?”

“Shit, Richie, do not fucking stab yourself.” Eddie couldn’t think of why Richie would do this. All he saw was the blade and Richie’s body ripe for the taking. 

Richie pressed the blade into the back of his arm and swiped it across. A thin line of blood spurted from the cut, and he held it out for Eddie to see. Eddie jumped back and said, “What the fuck, Richie, bandage that up, it’ll get infected!” 

“No, no, watch.” No more blood came out of the wound after the initial spurt trickled down Richie’s arm. It closed itself up, and Richie led Eddie inside to see him wash the blood off his arm to reveal only a thin line of a scar. 

“I heal really easy now,” Richie said. “That’s a perk.” 

“So werewolf culture promotes being a dumbass?” 

Richie laughed. 

“Don’t do that in front of Stanley,” Eddie said. “Just show him the memory. Or think of it. Or however he does it.”

“You’re all special, Eddie, not knowing what it’s like to have Stan poke around in your mind.”

“Shut up.”

Richie swooned and grabbed Eddie’s hands, placed them in his own. “Please, Mr. Edward, take me to my Juliet, my forbidden love, so I can fucking destroy him at arm wrestling.” He squeezed Eddie’s hands hard enough that Eddie yelped and jumped away. “You see how strong I am now? It’s wild.”

“Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, Eds.”

“And don’t call me that!” He stalked towards his truck, and Richie got in the passenger seat. “Your mood went from zero to a hundred pretty quick.”

“That’s the depression, baby,” and he winked. 

Neither of them talked. Eddie thought of what Richie had said, how he was the only normal one, the only human, left, and he tried not to curl in on himself. It would be perfect, Richie and Stanley together, never having to speak, just sitting in love and ignoring Eddie, because who cared about Eddie? He was a stupid human. 

Fuck, he wanted to die. 

He knew he was jumping to conclusions-he still didn’t know if Richie was just kidding about liking men, or if Stanley was attracted to anyone, although Eddie got the feeling that he liked boys. Still, even without the romantic element, there wasn’t room for a third, not unless Eddie got himself turned into a cryptid soon. 

When they arrived, Stanley stepped out of his house and Richie fell to his knees on the pavement. Stanley grinned, but that faded when Richie shouted, “Stanley, my love, forgive me! I have wronged you and your family. I wish only for your love once more.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Stanley said. 

_Okay_ , Eddie thought. _It’s a joke. No reason to get upset._

Although he was still jealous. Of which one of them, he didn’t know. 

Richie stood up and gave Stanley a half-hearted smile. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s fine. It’s alright. I can’t believe you got him to come,” he said to Eddie. 

“Oh, Eddie can always make me come,” Richie said. Eddie shouted and elbowed him. 

“What was it you needed?” Stanley asked. “Monsterly advice?” 

“Of course.” They headed up to Stanley’s room, and when Eddie saw his alarm clock reading nine, he said, “Oh, fuck.”

“What, your curfew’s at seven?” Richie said. 

“No, but my dad doesn’t know where I am.” He had to stop himself from panicking. This was not Sonia, and Frank, to be honest, did not quite care what Eddie was doing as long as it wasn’t dangerous. He called Frank, who told him it was fine, he figured he was out with Stanley and Richie, anyway. He had to be back by eleven, which was plenty of time. “Does your dad know you’re out?” he asked Richie.

“No. He’ll think I’m out with everyone else, though.”

“Does he know about all this?”

“Yeah. It’s genetic, I told you. Well, it skipped over him. All the old ones are dead now, so it’s just us, the cream of the crop.”

So Eddie now held the title of also having the only normal family. Fantastic. 

Stanley sat at his desk and told Richie, in hushed tones, about his transformation, adjusting to being a vampire, everything. Richie sat on one end of the couch and Eddie sat on the other. It was long enough that he could stretch out without touching Richie. 

—

Eddie was asleep. Stanley thought he was, at least. He didn’t want to walk over and check his breathing, so he hedged his bets on speaking softly enough that Eddie couldn’t hear him, even if he was awake.

“Why aren’t you and Eddie together?” Stanley asked. It took a burst of confidence, before he slumped and felt that he was the worst person in the world.

“What?”

“I mean, I know you like him. Or you used to. Do you still?”

Richie nodded. 

“Then you should ask him out. He likes you back.”

“You can’t read his mind, though.”

“I can tell. I’m not a dumbass.”

Richie stared at the ground. “Maybe.”

That would be fitting. Richie and Eddie. A werewolf-basically still a boy who could, on occasion, turn into a dog-with a human. Yes, Stanley thought that would work well. 

Richie was a nice boy for Eddie. Richie wouldn’t hurt Eddie, wouldn’t accidentally kill him if Eddie got a paper cut. He was good, he would take care of him. 

And Eddie? He was perfect for Richie. Able to tolerate his jokes and able to tolerate the supernatural. He was comforting, which, if the last hour was any indication, Richie would need. 

A wonderful human boy and a fantastic almost-boy. There was no room for Stanley, but that was alright. He could push it down and hold it, let it simmer for a few decades until Richie and Eddie were long dead. 

Yes, this would work quite well. 

Stanley just had to stop inserting himself into it all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they do be vibin doe


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan suggests Richie ask Eddie out, pushing his own feelings down.

In the moment, Eddie knew it was a dream. He knew it was a dream, and yet, he could not tear his eyes away from the sight. 

Richie and Stan were lying in a meadow, something picturesque. Richie had his arm around Stan, and Stan was laughing. Richie leaned over, placed his hand on Stan’s cheek, and kissed him on the lips. 

Eddie couldn’t move, only watch. He screamed while they sat in their perfect little bliss and it didn’t disturb them a bit.

Eddie awoke. He didn’t move for a minute, but he turned and saw the time before realizing that he didn’t have a track meet today, one of the few Saturdays he wouldn’t have one for a while. 

It had been a week since Richie had confessed he was a werewolf, and he and Stan sure as hell were spending a lot of time together. Always with Eddie, but Eddie began to feel like a third wheel, with nothing to contribute to the supernatural conversation. 

Richie’s new abilities didn’t include getting any better at Smash Bros, and Eddie kept beating him at that. And they tried their best to include them in their conversations, but still. It felt like some barrier had gone up between them. 

He stayed home on Thursday, busying himself with homework, and when he asked Stan and Richie what they’d done that night on Friday, they shrugged and said they stayed home. “No fun with just two of us,” Richie said. 

And Richie seemed to be hanging on to Stan like a dog. He wouldn’t leave his side when they were together. It was like Stan was some supernatural sensei, a mentor for the newly christened cryptids. 

Fuck, Eddie hated it. 

The horrible thing was, he didn’t hate seeing Richie and Stan together. He didn’t hate it when Richie leaned up against Stan right after he declared him his Minecraft husband. He even sort of liked seeing it. Not in a creepy way, but in a content way. He wasn’t upset in his dream until he couldn’t go to them, was kept all alone. 

But that was how it was going to be. There could only be two of them in a relationship; that was how it went. It would be odd enough for two boys to be dating-especially up here-and why would they want a third boy to tag along? 

He wanted Richie and Stan to be happy, and if being together was what made them happy, he was fine with that! But he couldn’t help but insert himself into the relationship in his mind, make it Richie, Stan, and Eddie instead of just Richie and Stan. 

He had to go over to Stan’s today. They were going to go in the woods behind his house and watch Richie turn into a wolf, an act Eddie felt would result in puking from him and possibly Stanley. Richie had told them that the first time he phased after he’d talked with Stan, the pack had yelled at him, but not for long, so he didn’t care. 

Eddie wanted to stay inside his house forever, never leave. Instead, he brushed his teeth and drove to Stan’s, parking next to Richie who, of course, was already here. 

New Stanley was sitting on the porch, smoking. He hid the blunt when Eddie approached and waved. “Hey, Richie’s gonna be a wolf today, right?” 

Anytime new Stanley talked to him, Eddie felt like he was being cornered in an alley somewhere by an overly optimistic mugger. Eddie nodded and inched towards the front door. 

“Can I see?” 

“I don’t know, it’s not really my place to say.”

“Well, yeah, but Stan already told me no and I need you to back me up.”

Eddie shook his head and scurried inside. When he saw Stanley, he told him what had happened and asked if he’d pissed new Stan off. 

“No, he’s just bored. He has no sense of shame, he won’t get pissed.”

“And he can’t come? I don’t want him to, but-“

“No, no way. He’d make Richie feel like some zoo animal. He’d be shouting and pointing.”

“Huh.” 

“Yeah.” He led Eddie outside, where Richie fist bumped him. 

“Where the hell’re we gonna do this?” Richie asked. 

“Wherever you want. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Eddie noticed then that Richie was hunched over, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He had a drawstring bag sat on his lap; when he stood up, he clutched it to his chest. 

“I don’t know. Not here,” Richie said. 

“The woods?”

“Sure.”

They walked towards the trees behind the house, Eddie trailing behind. Stan stopped for a second and said, “Why’re you so far behind?”

Eddie shrugged.

“Come on up here,” and the three of them walked in a line, Richie in front of Eddie in front of Stanley. Richie stopped, and Eddie smashed his face into his back. Stanley had been far enough behind to avoid hitting Eddie. 

“Here’s good,” Richie said. They were in a clearing, enough light coming through the trees to see, but not enough for Stan to burn. Richie sat down his bag, and both Stan and Eddie plopped down next to it. Richie took off his shoes and glasses and said, “Alright. Okay. Don’t freak out.” 

“Of course not,” Stan said. 

He paced a bit, wrung his hands together. “Don’t look at me!” 

“Isn’t that the entire point?” Eddie said. Stan shoved him, and he crossed his arms. Both of them looked up to the sky, until they heard the shredding of clothes. They both jerked their heads to see a wolf landing on his front legs, strips of fabric strewn about him. The piece closest to Eddie was a gaudy pink floral print, the same one Richie had been wearing. Eddie threw up in his mouth. 

The wolf didn’t look a thing like Richie. It- _he_ -had dark fur and giant eyes. He stared at Eddie for a moment while Eddie sat motionless. 

“Wild,” Stan said. Eddie jumped. “I can still read your mind like this.” 

Richie ( _this was not Richie_ )-it ran into the woods, grabbing the bag Richie’d brought with his mouth. Stan said, “He’s done.”

Five minutes later, Richie came back fully human and fully dressed, save for his glasses and shoes. He grinned and said, “What did you think?” although his voice was hoarse and shaky. 

Stan didn’t seem near as freaked out as Eddie did. Eddie wondered if he’d seen him do this before. He dismissed the thought when he remembered Stan’s musings.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t think. He got back in his truck, somehow, and he drove himself home. He was a robot; he had no idea what was going on. 

He got a call from Richie that night, after Stan had texted seventeen times to check on him, Eddie finally replying with _yea im good._ “You know you can text, right?” Eddie said to Richie when he picked up. 

Richie laughed. “Sure, but I just love hearing your voice. Gives me something to beat it to later.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Yeah, so. Um. I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier.”

“What do you have to be sorry for? It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, no, but still. It’s who I am. I don’t like the idea of my best friend hating something I am.” 

Eddie stamped down his automatic thought to that. “I don’t hate you, believe me. It’s just something to get used to. Like Stan.”

“Like Stan.” Richie sighed and said, “You’re sure you’re not freaked out by this?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Then do you want to go hang out sometime?"

“Cool. I’ll see when Stan’s free.”

“No, no, like, without Stan.”

Eddie blinked. “Why would we go without Stan?”

“I mean a different sort of hang out. Fuck, Eddie, sorry, you’re going to hate me, I’m sorry.”

_Oh._

“I-“ _I thought you and Stan were together. I thought you were straight. I thought you didn’t like me._ “Okay.”

“Alright. What about the movies?”

“Sure, but no terrible ones.”

“No! That’s the best. Only reason in going.” 

Eddie sighed. “Alright, fine. We can see whatever horrible movie you want.”

“Yes!” 

And it was great. Eddie had a date with a boy-not just a boy, but one of his best friends, one gorgeous (not that he would admit it) Richie Tozier. 

But. 

But Stanley should’ve been there, too. Eddie felt like he was leaving behind something crucial to their success, something that they could exist without, but not thrive without. He felt horrible, but what could he do? Relationships were a two person thing, right? He couldn’t very well insert Stan into it just because he felt guilty, and maybe a bit attracted to him, too. 

Anyway, Stan wasn’t being left behind. He and Richie still had their supernatural stuff. He was fine. Stan was fine. 

Although when he saw him in class, he had a tight smile and talked only a bit to Eddie. After a few days of this, Eddie leaned over and whispered, “Are you okay?”

Stan nodded. 

“You’re not mad or anything?”

“Why would I be mad?”

_Because you don’t have Richie all to yourself anymore. Because you’re jealous. Because I’m jealous._ “I don’t know. You’ve been kind of weird since Richie phased in front of us.”

“No, I’m not acting weird.”

And they didn’t mention it again. 

Richie picked Eddie up that Friday night to go out. When Eddie told Frank he was going to a movie, he asked Eddie if they were going to take Stan as well, because the universe hated Eddie. 

“No, it’s just me and Richie.”

Frank grunted. “Richie’s a good boy. You don’t do anything bad, alright?”

“Yeah, no.” Eddie thought for a moment about how Frank had probably already known about Eddie’s being gay, but he didn’t dwell on it. He had bigger fish to fry. 

The ride to the movies was perhaps the most awkward ride Eddie’d ever had. There was just a bit of conversation, nothing major, and Eddie’s hands were sopping wet. Richie’s were too, by the amount of times he’d wiped them off on his jeans. They ended up seeing a slasher film after standing in front of the display debating for so long that they’d missed any of the other movies’ starts. Eddie laughed during it, and Richie leaned over to whisper, “What, are you a serial killer now?”

“It’s such shit! Look at these effects.”

The sight of Adam Sandler’s fake blood spurting into Ben Stiller’s mouth broke the glass, and they joked about the movie for the rest of the runtime, even when Eddie pretended to be scared and grabbed Richie’s hand, shutting his eyes. They stayed like that until Richie dropped Eddie off. They both hesitated before Eddie got out, but Richie pecked him on the lips before ducking his head. 

It was a perfect night, almost. There was only one thing missing. 

And three miles away, Stanley Uris laid on his couch and stared at his ceiling. It was his fault they were together! He didn’t even hate them being together, them kissing. It was just- _fuck._ A hell of an abandonment complex he had on him, he thought. 

He knew, rationally, that right beside Richie’s thoughts of _Eddie Eddie Eddie_ was his name, repeated with the same force, with the same emotion. But what if that was a front? What if he was just doing it to trick Stan? 

He could run away. He didn’t want to do that to his family, especially since they’d track him down in no time and he’d feel guilty as hell. 

Easy. Just be happy for Richie and Eddie. There was no place for Stan, but there never was, was there? 

He opened his window and jumped out. He knew everyone was at the house and might worry if he didn’t show up by the morning, but he didn’t plan to be out that long. He got the Volvo from the garage and drove to the boundary between Forks and La Push. He pulled over and put his head on the steering wheel. He considered just running past the boundary, but the last thing he wanted was to get Richie in trouble. His eyes were so blurred at that point as well that there was a fair chance he’d get lost running to Richie’s house. 

Instead, he sent him a text. _Come meet me at the border._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so shit ive got bad writers block sorry 
> 
> im sorry Stan bb 
> 
> BUT it will get better! this is a streddie fic and it's gonna get there I promise!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Eddie and Richie's date, Stan goes to talk to Richie.

Stan was turned towards the trees, and ten minutes after he sent his text, Richie walked through. He was panting, and Stan wiped his face so Richie didn’t notice anything. 

“Where are your shoes?” Stan asked. 

“You told me to meet you at midnight; I don’t think that’s really the biggest concern here.” 

Stan knew he wasn’t mad, but still. There was always the possibility he was wrong, the possibility Richie was blocking him out.

“So what’s up?” Richie said.

“How’d your date with Eddie go?”

He squinted. “Don’t you already know?”

This was a bad idea. This was such a bad idea. What was he supposed to do, tell Richie that he liked his boyfriend ( _were they boyfriends?_ ) too?

Oh, he was so stupid. What was he going to say again? He couldn’t remember. 

“It was good,” Richie said. “We went to some horror movie and Eddie thought it was the funniest thing in the world. Not because-because of the special effects, of course.”

“Of course.”

A car zipped by them, and Stanley pulled his jacket around him. “Do you want to get in?” he asked. 

“You gonna kidnap me?”

“No, it’s just. We might get hit.”

“Thought you were immortal.”

“You’re not.”

Richie slipped into the passenger seat and Stan turned on the overhead light, which he immediately regretted. “Dude,” Richie said, “what’s wrong?” 

He was referring to Stan’s blotchy red face. “Allergies.”

“Sure. What’s going on?” 

“I just wanted to talk.”

“About?” 

Bad idea bad idea _bad idea bad idea_. Stan scrunched his face up, balled his hands into fists, and put his head on the steering wheel. One breath in, one breath out. Usually he didn’t need to breathe, but he sure as hell needed to now. 

He felt a hand on his back. Richie rubbed circles on Stan, and he sat up. Stan willed himself not to cry, and he turned off the overhead light-although maybe Richie had night vision, he wasn’t sure. He heard a door open, and he was pulled into the night air and put in the passenger seat. Richie reached over him to fasten his seatbelt before getting in the driver’s side and pulling out. 

“We can’t go past the line,” Stan said. 

“I know, don’t worry.” Stan knew Richie had no particular plan in mind, but he drove back towards Forks. 

“Your dad’s going to be mad at you, if he finds out you’re gone.” 

“I don’t give a shit.” 

They drove until Stan could breathe evenly, and Richie pulled into the Walmart. “Best place in the world to wander around,” he said, and they went around the store, not talking, simply pointing out odd items as they came across them. 

“Sorry for dragging you out here,” Stan said. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Nothing more. Right before Stan picked up the gaudiest plastic plate he’d ever seen, Richie said, “I do want you to tell me what’s bothering you.”

Stan screwed his eyes shut and sighed. 

“You gotta tell me, dude.” Stan waited for Richie to make some joke about how his vampire period had started or something, but he left it at that. 

“I don’t-don’t be mad,” he said. Why couldn’t Richie just read his mind? He pointed at himself and said, “Eddie, I-“ and he couldn’t get anything else out. 

Richie blinked. “Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“That’s not a surprise, I mean. It’s pretty obvious you’re into him. That’s why I was so confused when you told me to ask him out, is cause I knew you liked him. I didn’t get it.”

“You’re not pissed I’m moving in on your man?” 

Richie laughed. “We went on one date. He’s not my man.” 

Stan stammered, didn’t say anything coherent. “What are we going to do?” he finally spit out. 

“What do you want to do? You want to duel for Eddie’s heart? Sword fight? Almost kill each other until we get in a vaguely sexual position and realize we were for each other all along?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“We’ll talk about it. All three of us. No sense in us getting pissed at each other.”

And that was great, a wonderful idea, until Stan got home and heard nothing but _FUCK_ in Richie’s head. 

-

Stan seemed better at school, Eddie thought. No more cold shoulder, or colder than it already was, at least. 

But Richie was quiet, Richie was stilted on their calls. Eddie worried if he messed something up, if Richie had actually been straight. Except Richie had been the one to ask Eddie out, and Richie had been the one to kiss Eddie. 

_Fuck._ Why couldn’t he have both of them happy at once? Why did it always have to be someone upset? 

He texted Stan one night while he was not lying awake thinking about it, not ignoring his homework in favor of thinking about Richie and how nice it was when he kissed him and how pissed he was that he was being all secretive about it. 

_what’s up with richie_ , he texted Stan. 

_He’s upset._

_why_

_Unknown._

And now Stan was lying to him too, he supposed. Fine. _Fine._ Didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He could lie on his bed and stare at his ceiling for all eternity and nothing would change because nothing at all mattered. 

Until he heard a knock at his window, and he jumped up so fast he nearly fell off the bed. It was Richie this time, not Stan. Eddie opened his window and Richie jumped in, saying, “I forgot I could do this, isn’t it awesome?” 

“Why do neither of you know how to use a door?” 

“It’s the finesse, baby, it’s all part of it.” 

Eddie shook his head. “What is wrong with you?”

“What?” Richie’s eyes widened.

“You always just stop talking and then act like everything’s normal again.”

Richie shook his head. “I didn’t stop talking.”

“Well, you-you were, you know, stoic. Quieter.” 

“I didn’t mean to be.”

Eddie sighed and laid back on his bed. “I just want you all to clue me in for once.”

“What?”

“You all always lie about how you’re feeling. And Stan can see what you’re thinking, but I don’t know what either of you are ever feeling. Just talk to me.”

Richie pushed Eddie to the edge of his bed and laid down next to him. “Sorry for shutting you out.”

“It’s okay. Don’t do it again.”

“Alright.”

They were silent for a few moments. Eddie was acutely aware of Richie’s arm touching his, their legs lined up together. Richie said, “Stan likes you.”

“Hmm?”

“Stan has a crush on you.”

“Oh.” 

Richie closed his eyes. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that. I think we were all supposed to talk sometime about it.” 

“So that’s why you’ve been upset?”

“Yeah. Partly.” 

Richie’s phone buzzed. He turned on his back and pulled it out of his pocket. Eddie looked over to see a text from Stan: _No it’s cool you told him he knew anyway don’t worry_

“I didn’t know,” Eddie said. 

Richie texted something back that Eddie couldn’t see, and they laid in silence. “What are we going to do?” Richie said. 

“I don’t know.” 

A knock on the window, and Richie let Stan in. They were all three on Eddie’s bed, Stan with his knees drawn to his chest. He stared at Eddie’s bedspread, and Richie clapped his hands and said, “Alright. Let’s get going.”

“With what?”

“Working stuff out. Figuring things out.”

Stan sighed. “And how are we going to do that?”

“Easy! Easy. Okay, raise your hand if you like Eddie.” 

“Fucking hell,” Eddie said. 

“What else do you suggest?” 

“I-fine.”

Both Stan and Richie raised their hands. Eddie looked between them and said, “I don’t see the point of this,” before Richie lowered his hand and said, “Raise your hand if you like Stan.” 

Stan glared at Richie, who had put his hand up again. That didn’t make any sense. Richie liked Eddie, he just said, and how could he like Stan, too? It was just Eddie that liked two people, not Richie. Richie wasn’t fucked up like that. 

Eddie raised his hand.

“See?” Richie said. “He likes you back.” 

Stan stared at Eddie. “Don’t feel obligated to say you like me,” he said. 

“I don’t.” 

“Okay.”

Richie grinned. “Everything’s squared away, everything’s all nice and good now.”

“What about you?” Eddie said. 

“What about me?”

“Well, okay, raise your hand if you like Richie,” and both Eddie and Stan raised their hands. Richie stared at Stan and said, “Why the fuck did you tell me to ask Eddie out?”

“You told him to ask me out?”

Stan sighed. “I didn’t think he liked me back. I wanted him to be happy.” 

Eddie pursed his lips, and Richie burst out laughing. “What are we supposed to do now? Have a giant threesome?”

Eddie shook his head, and Stan said, “No, definitely not. At least not now.” 

“Not now?”

“It’s not odd to have a three way relationship,” Stan said. “Or, it might be, but vampire, werewolf, human. I feel like that negates any of the weirdness of a polyamorous relationship.” 

Richie nodded. “Alright. I’m down. Eddie?”

Eddie furrowed his brow. “So, basically, we’d all three be dating each other.” 

“Yeah.” 

And this was what was missing from their date. That was why he’d wanted Stan there along with Richie, why he’d felt bad for leaving him behind. 

“Okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” and Stan grinned. Richie yawned, and Stan said, “You’d better get back home.” 

“Alright, sure.” 

“I’m going to go home, too,” he said to Eddie. “Don’t you have an English quiz tomorrow?”

“How do you know that?”

“You told me.” He was still smiling. They were all smiling. “Not reading your mind, don’t worry.”

“So when are we going to hang out again?” Richie asked. 

“I’m good tomorrow,” Stan said. 

“I’ve got track, but after that I’m free.” 

“Okay, it’s a date,” and Richie opened Eddie’s window and maneuvered out of it. Stan waved to Eddie and followed him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so bad,,,, I do be depressed doe. not to worry! 17 hours of my day is sleep


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After confessing that Richie, Stan, and Eddie all like each other, they decide to go out on a date.

They met at the diner they went to, Stan riding with Eddie. Richie was already in a booth by the time they got there; he was building a small fort out of sugar packets that fell the second Stan sat across from him. Eddie sat by Stan, as Richie, who now seemed to be growing by the day (or perhaps Eddie hadn’t noticed), looked content to take up the bench by himself. 

They talked about their days, talked about school and everything of no importance. It was almost May, so Eddie hadn’t brought a jacket-an idiot move on his part, as the diner was always chilly. He hugged himself, and Stan leaned over and asked, “Are you cold?”

Eddie nodded, and Stan shrugged off his cardigan and handed it to Eddie. Eddie refused it, saying he didn’t want Stan to get cold, but Stan said, “I don’t get cold, remember? Purely aesthetic.” So Eddie, blushing, put on the cardigan and looked across to Richie, who stared at Stan as if he had hung the stars. 

Richie ate Stan’s hash browns and his own pancakes, which he was able to scarf down before Eddie had gotten through his French toast. Stan sat in the corner of the booth, looking at both of them and glancing at Eddie’s plate. Eddie cut off a corner and said, “Do you want a bite?”

Stan shook his head. “No, it’ll taste a lot worse than I think.”

“Like a Yankee Candle,” Richie said. 

“What?”

“You know, it smells great and so you take a bite out of it and it tastes horrible?” 

Stan blinked. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I should’ve just eaten a real cupcake instead.” 

“I wish you were joking. I wish I knew you were joking. This is the worst thing I’ve ever heard,” and he gestured to Eddie to agree. 

Eddie shrugged. “I’ve done it before. I was younger, but still. I think everyone’s tried a Yankee Candle before.” 

Stan covered his face. “Fuck, no, please. You two can have each other, I don’t want to date candle eaters.” 

Eddie worried for a moment before he saw Stan’s grin beneath his hands. He ate more of his toast, and Richie tried to tell Stan that maybe a vanilla bean candle wouldn’t taste so bad to him. 

“You think I could give up blood for a cinnamon flavored candle? That’s-no. I’d rather cause mass extinction than face that sort of humiliation.”

“I bet new Stan would do it,” Eddie said. 

“Don’t call him new Stan, and don’t say that.”

“Because he will?”

“Definitely.”

They loitered in the diner until the waitress told them to get their asses out of there, it was almost closing time. They stood around in the parking lot for almost an hour after that. When it got dark, Eddie said, “Do you all want to hang out this weekend?”

“I can’t,” Stan said. He gestured to his teeth. 

“All weekend?”

“Friday and Saturday. I’ll be back in town late Saturday night, if you want to hang out then.” 

“You won’t be at school on Friday?”

Stan shrugged. “Nothing else I can do. None of us-well, actually, Sydney’s going to be there because she hunted pretty recently. But the rest of us are going to be gone.”

“I’m good with Saturday night,” Richie said. “You?”

Eddie agreed. Saturday he had an invitational, which he had forgotten about until he got home and saw his calendar. 

He did fine at it, securing his place as the most mediocre runner of the team. He got home, took a shower, and told his dad about Stan and Richie coming over when he went downstairs to get some cereal. 

“What’re you all going to do?”

“I don’t know. Probably chill. Maybe just play some video games.” 

He side-eyed him and said, “Alright.”

“We’re not going to do anything bad.”

“Okay.”

“No pot. My asthma’ll act up.”

“I said okay.”

And Eddie sat in his room, staring out his window with his empty cereal bowl on his lap. He felt like he was in elementary school again, waiting for a play date. 

Richie drove up and Eddie ran downstairs, discarding his bowl in the sink. He waited for Richie to knock before opening the door-didn’t want to be weird, did he? 

Richie asked after Eddie’s track meet ( _shit, and now he was sunburnt, too_ ); Eddie asked what Richie’d been doing ( _working on his car, mostly; the oil needed to be changed and other things Eddie couldn’t follow_ ). They went up to Eddie’s room and set up Richie’s Switch on the floor, sitting shoulder to shoulder and playing two games of Smash. When Richie lost the second one, he pretended to faint and said, “Why?” He crumpled to the floor with his back to Eddie. 

“Dude, get up,” Eddie said. 

“How can I recover when my love hath slain me in combat?”

Eddie felt his stomach flutter at that. “Will a consolation prize help you?”

He sat up. “What sort of prize is it?”

Eddie leaned forward and pecked Richie on the lips, as quick as it had been the first time he’d kissed him. Richie grinned, and Eddie was sure his face was burning. 

Richie nodded. “Alright, yeah, okay, I’m better.”

There was a knock at the door, and Richie grinned and ran down the stairs, Eddie following him. They met Stan at the door, who had an overnight bag in one hand and a bag of Cheetos in the other. 

“I didn’t want to come empty handed,” he said. He noticed Eddie looking at his bag and said, “I like to change my clothes when we’re out there, and I already had my toothbrush and everything packed. I figured I should bring it.” 

Eddie was about to lead Stan up to his room, the first time, he realized, that he would be going in there the proper way, when Frank stopped them. Eddie hadn’t noticed him in the living room, but now he could hear the buzz of a football game on the TV. 

He realized too, as Frank shook Stan’s hand and visibly recoiled at how cold it was, that Stan had never met his father. Frank said, “It’s Steve, right?” although Eddie knew he had referred to him as the correct name before. It seemed as if Stan knew he was trying to rattle him, but he was calm until they got up to Eddie’s room, where he began laughing. 

“Your dad’s so weird,” he told Eddie. “He just kept thinking about if I was iron deficient or something.” 

Stan seemed more energetic than usual. The bags under his eyes were less prominent, and he had a bit of color to his skin. He managed to beat Richie at Smash, something he was never able to accomplish. 

“Does blood just make you better at video games?” Richie asked. 

“I think you’re just having an off day,” Eddie said. “I beat him earlier, destroyed his ass.”

“Okay, it wasn’t that close.”

Stan smiled. “I saw. He really did, though.” 

Which meant that Stan saw Eddie kiss Richie. Eddie turned and tried his best not to blush. 

They gave up on Smash soon after that, once Stan beat Eddie with Isabelle from Animal Crossing. Richie opened the bag of Cheetos and shoved a few in his face, telling Eddie to open his mouth and unsuccessfully aiming a Cheeto at him. 

Stan and Richie both laid on the floor; Eddie sat with his back to his bed. “What do you want to do now?” Eddie asked. 

“It’s orgy time,” Richie said, laughing. 

“Shut up,” both Stan and Eddie said. 

“I don’t know,” said Richie. “What do people usually do on dates?”

Eddie and Stan shrugged. Eddie said, “I’ve never been on a date.”

“What about the diner?”

“Oh, yeah. Okay, sorry. That’s it, though.”

“What about you, Stan?”

“Same here.”

Richie sat up. “Wait, you’ve been alive for like, a billion years, and you’ve never had a boyfriend or anything?”

Stan averted his eyes. “I haven’t been alive for a billion years.”

“You know what I mean, though.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m just going to go out and get a boyfriend in the sixties, no big deal.”

Richie shut his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” 

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, you were just curious.” 

Richie pulled Stan into perhaps the most awkward hug Eddie had ever seen. Both of them had pursed lips, were stiff bodied, and when they separated, Richie said, “No homo.”

“Dude,” Eddie said. 

Richie grinned and faked a bow. “How’d you like the show, Eds?”

“Not my name.” 

_Fuck,_ this is going wrong. This is going bad. It was supposed to be nice and happy and now they were fighting and he felt out and everything was crumbling. 

Richie touched his elbow and said, “You good?” Stan was looking at him, too, as if he was a breakable object. 

“Yeah. Yeah. Is this good? Everything good?” 

“Everything’s fine,” Stan said, and Eddie believed him. 

Richie propped his elbow up on his knee. “So, Stanny, you’ve never done anything? Never fucked or anything?”

“Shut up, goodness.”

Richie leaned over and grinned at him, and Stan sighed and said, “No, I’ve never kissed anyone, and yes, you can if you want.”

Richie whooped and pressed his lips to Stan’s for a moment, their noses colliding. Stan leaned back and laughed, and Richie said, “I wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t that bad, was it?” 

“I didn’t think it was awful,” Eddie said, “but you didn’t massacre my nose like you did Stan.”

“Well, you got two tries, and it’s only fair that I get two,” Stan said. Eddie laughed, and Stan leaned over, put his hands on Richie’s cheeks, and pressed his lips to Richie’s. It was only moment, no moving of lips or anything, and once they were done, Stan said, “We’re all really bad at it, I guess.”

Eddie shrugged and said, “That’s to be expected.”

Stan turned to Eddie and said, “Do you-can I-“

“Sure.”

Stan scooted over to Eddie and put his hand on Eddie’s jaw. They gave each other slight smiles before Stan leaned in and kissed him. 

It was longer than Richie’s kisses, and it felt a bit weird. Stan’s lips were cold, really, really cold. Eddie was fine with it. He couldn’t stop smiling when Stan pulled away, couldn’t stop smiling when he kissed him again, “just to even it up between us.” 

The three of them kept laughing and talking a bit, until Richie put his head on Stan’s shoulder and declared that he was going to sleep for the next sixteen hours. Stan said, “Your dad doesn’t know you’re staying over.”

“I’ll text him.”

“And you didn’t ask Eddie.”

Richie opened one eye and said, “Eddie, is it alright if I stay over tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Is it okay if Stan stays, too?”

“Sure.”

Eddie looked over to Stan. “Your parents don’t care if you stay overnight?”

“No, I can pretty much do what I want.”

“Cool.” Eddie stood up and brushed his teeth, leaning into Stan’s side when he returned. Richie was already asleep, and Eddie was close. Stan had a book with him; when Eddie pointed to it, Stan said, “I don’t sleep, remember?”

Richie and Eddie were both curled into Stan, and though Eddie’s neck hurt, and he knew his back would be sore from sitting on the floor, he was perfectly happy. 

-

Sometime around two, Richie got up to take a piss. When he came back, Stan waved at him, and he slunk into his side. 

“You didn’t have to say you liked me,” Richie murmured. 

“Well, we were all confessing things, what was I supposed to do?”

“I mean-we could just share Eddie.”

Stan raised his eyebrows. “You don’t like me?”

“I do, you know I do, I just didn’t want you to feel like you have to like me back.”

“Well, I do like you, so.”

Richie looked up at Stan. “You promise?”

Stan nodded. 

“Pinkie promise?”

Stan sighed and locked his pinkie around Richie’s. Richie hummed and settled into Stan’s side, and he was asleep within a minute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me n the bois consuming wax candles 
> 
> sorry it's been a while. also the reason richie grows a lot is because in the book, right after werewolves first realize they're werewolves they grow a ton 
> 
> if y'all are bored come talk to me on Tumblr: clarinetmans


	10. Chapter 10

Eddie felt wonderful. 

He met up with Stan after English and walked hand in hand with him to lunch. Stan was a bit apprehensive, worrying that Eddie wouldn’t want to be out or perhaps would be made fun of, but Eddie shrugged and said, “I don’t care what other people think, and when did you start?”

“I mean, still-“

“I’ve got a boyfriend who can beat them up, I’m not worried.”

He furrowed his brow. “I don’t want to fight anyone.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

They sat with Mike, Beverly, and Dina at lunch, and soon Stan’s siblings joined them. Mike and Bill sat to one side of them, and Beverly sat with Dina and Sydney. Stan and Eddie mostly stayed in their own little bubble until they heard Beverly say, “Yeah, I’ve been going out with this guy, it’s been pretty good.”

Eddie tapped her shoulder and said, “Who?”

“Oh, Ben, Richie’s friend. He’s sweet.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at Stan, who shrugged. He leaned over to whisper, “I haven’t been checking in. I forgot about it.”

“So did I. Why didn’t Richie say anything?”

“I’d say he forgot also.”

Stan peeled his orange and handed it to Eddie, who ate the slices with a fork so he wouldn’t get his fingers sticky. Dina said, “You two are cute.”

“Dude,” Eddie said, right as Stan said, “No, we’re not.”

“You know what’s funny?” Sydney said. “They’re all lovey dovey at school, but he won’t even mention it to our parents.”

“Why not?” Dina asked. 

“I don’t know, but they want to have him over for dinner,” and Sydney looked straight at Stan. She mouthed, “Both of them.”

When they left lunch, going to biology, Eddie said, “If we go to dinner with your family, does that mean we have to, like, drink blood?”

“What the fuck? No.”

“I don’t want to offend you all, if I have to drink blood I will, but I’d rather it be tested and such, maybe from someone I know.”

“It’s a pretense. We won’t actually have dinner, they just want to meet you. As my boyfriends, I mean.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” 

“I haven’t really been listening to anyone besides Richie, honestly. And I would listen to you if I could, but,” and he shrugged. 

“You’re slacking.”

“Apparently.” 

Richie picked up Stan after school while Eddie went to track practice, and after taking a shower in the grimy locker room, he got into Richie’s junker and squeezed into the passenger seat beside Stan. Eddie twisted around him to look at Richie and said, “Did he tell you about the dinner?”

“What dinner?”

Stan sighed. “You all have to come over and meet my family.”

Richie put his head back. “Fuck, I thought you didn’t have to deal wit in-laws until you were, like, thirty.”

“I’m older than thirty.”

“Oh yeah, baby, remind me how crusty you are, that’s it.”

Stan swatted his elbow. “No, we’re not going to drink blood; I already told Eddie that. Yes, you do have to dress nice,” at which both Eddie and Richie balked. “I’ll try to get them to wait a week,” because all three of them had finals and AP tests this week, and there was only half a week of school left after that. Eddie wondered if they’d spend the entire summer together, going out and cuddling, although the way Frank had been talking, there was no way Eddie was going to get by without a job this summer. 

This turned out to be a good call on Stan’s part, as Eddie texted three times into the group chat about how _MY LIFE IS RUINED i FORGOT how to integrate and now ill DIE_. Stan only panicked once, about his English grade, to which Richie responded _what does it matter uve got 300000000 other english grades 2 replace it w_

And with that, with the week long wait of finals grades and the two month wait of AP scores, Richie picked up Eddie, and they headed to the Cullens’. 

“Stan said to dress nice,” Eddie said. 

Richie was wearing a multicolored Hawaiian shirt that seemed to make Eddie’s eyes bleed more than usual. “I am. This is my dress up shirt.”

“Maybe they’re going to decide which of us is better for Stan, so I’ve already won. Guess you’re getting your blood sucked,” and, despite both of them knowing how inappropriate it was, laughed with Richie.

They ended up around the Cullens’ massive dinner table, only Eddie and Richie eating anything. Someone had made a giant rotisserie chicken, and both of them picked at it while the other six stared at them. Stan caught Eddie’s eye and mouthed, “Sorry.”

Eddie shrugged. 

Esme asked after both of their families, and Dr. Cullen-Carlisle, he told them to call him-spoke about a man who came in having caught his mouth on a fishing rod. He had yelled at Carlisle because when he went to take a drink of water, he thought it was Kool-aid because of how much of his blood was going into the cup. 

Richie turned and opened his mouth, and Eddie kicked him under the table, although he continued. “How do you not freak out or anything? With all the blood?”

Eddie kept kicking him until Richie kicked him back once. Carlisle said, “I’m quite accustomed to it now. It used to be difficult, but I’ve been doing it for so long that I don’t worry about it.”

The table was eerily quiet, once new Stan finished asking Eddie various questions about the law, mostly entailing whether he could do something and whether he could either pretend he was Stan or Eddie could talk his dad out of pressing charges. Esme smiled and said, “We’re sorry, we rarely have visitors.”

“And we never talk to each other,” Sydney said. 

Esme glared at her. “That’s not true.”

“It k-kinda is,” Bill said. “We don’t get around l-like this that m-much.” 

“We don’t?” It wasn’t a question, and all four of the Cullens’ kids sunk in their seats. 

“We play baseball,” Stan said. 

“We do,” she said. “But now Eddie and Richie think we’re a horrible family, that we sit around and do nothing but sit on our fat asses and drink blood.” Her voice was too delicate to curse, Eddie thought, or maybe he simply hadn’t expected it. Either way, he screwed his eyes shut, and he felt Richie stiffen across from him. 

“We don’t think that,” Richie said. Stan nodded behind him. 

“Really? Well, do you want to play baseball with us?”

Eddie stared at Stan, who nodded slightly. They both agreed, and Eddie met Stan and Richie in the hall before they headed into the woods. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Richie said. 

“She’s kinda pissed,” Stan said, “and she wants to play baseball, too, see how you react.”

“I have no idea how to play baseball,” Eddie said. 

“You’ll figure it out,” Stan said, and he patted him on the back. 

Bill and Sydney grabbed two bins and they all headed outside. The whole family turned to Stan, asking him how he would get the others there. Eddie almost asked if they could simply drive, but he said, “Richie.”

“What?”

Stan motioned to his family and said, “Go on ahead.” They took off one by one, running with a speed and agility Eddie didn’t think possible. “You can run fast, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but just, like, when I’m-y’know.” 

“Do you care to do that now?” 

Richie laughed nervously. “We can’t just walk or something?” 

“No, it’s all the way out there. Five miles, and they want to get started soon.” 

“I don’t wanna get naked in front of your family.” 

“That’s why I sent them ahead. You can turn here and stop right before we get there.”

“And how’s Eddie supposed to get there?”

Stan turned to Eddie and waved to his back. “If you don’t mind, I can-can carry you piggyback.” Stan’s face seemed to be blushing, although Eddie knew that wasn’t possible. His own face was red enough for the both of them. 

Eddie nodded, and Stan gestured to Richie. “Go ahead.”

Richie inched towards the woods. “Don’t look,” he said. “I don’t want you all to see it.” 

“And how are you going to get there?” 

“I’ll hide out, and you can go ahead of me. I’ll follow you.” 

Stan nodded and squatted a bit when Richie disappeared. Eddie put his legs around Stan’s torso, his arms around his neck. 

“Don’t think about how weird it is,” Stan said. 

“Are you talking to me or you?”

“Both. Close your eyes, alright? Don’t get sick.”

And they moved too fast. Eddie felt as if his brain had been left behind, as if he would slip off any second and hit his head on a rock, as if he would hit a tree. He didn’t open his eyes, but put his head in Stan’s shoulder. 

They stopped about five minutes later. Eddie jumped off Stan’s back and sat on the ground, putting his head between his knees. Stan sat beside him and rubbed circles into his back, and Eddie leaned into his side. 

Richie soon appeared. His eyes widened, and he said, “You look green.”

“How’re you dressed? I thought your clothes exploded when you changed.”

“Why is that what you’re worried about?” Stan asked. 

“It’s cause he wanted to see me naked,” Richie said, “just like you, babe. I don’t blame him.” 

“Shut up.”

“I got naked and carried my clothes, and put them back on a second ago.”

Eddie let out a breath, and Stan said, “Are you feeling better?” 

Eddie nodded. They both helped him to his feet, and he walked in between them, one hand in each of theirs. They walked into a large clearing, where the rest of Stan’s family stood around a baseball diamond. Both of the storage bins Sydney and Bill had been carrying were open, and Stan sat beside first base taking swigs of Gatorade right before spitting it out. 

Sydney cupped her hands around her mouth and said, “What team do you want?” 

Stan motioned towards Richie and Eddie. “Them, and, uh-who else do you all want?” 

Eddie shrugged, and Richie said, “Stan. The Stan team.”

“Fuck,” Eddie said, and sure enough, once new Stan had walked over, Richie said, “I stan a good team,” and new Stan laughed. 

Carlisle and Bill stood at second and third bases, respectively, and Sydney stood on the pitcher’s mound. Esme crouched behind the batter’s box, situating a cage over her head and putting a glove on. 

Stan picked up a baseball bat and stood in front of Esme. “It’s simple,” he called over his shoulder. “Get to the bases before they catch the ball. If it goes on the right, that’s a strike.” 

“I don’t think that’s how baseball works,” Richie whispered to Eddie. 

“We don’t have enough people for a full game,” Stan said. “Easiest to play it like this.”

New Stan, Richie, and Eddie stood a ways back behind the batter’s box, and Sydney threw her ball in the air before hurling it at Stan. He missed it, and it zipped past Eddie’s face, into the trees. New Stan ran to catch it, and he had given it to Sydney in about ten seconds. 

They repeated this, and Stan’s shoulders slouched. On the third try, however, he hit the ball, and the bat was so loud it sounded as if he’d cracked it in half. Stan dropped the bat and ran to second base before Carlisle returned with the ball, running so fast that he seemed like a blur. New Stan stepped up to the plate and got to first base before Sydney called out, “Wait.”

“What?” 

She faced towards the forest, in between first and second bases. “People. Others. We gotta go.” 

Carlisle walked up to her. “How close are they?” 

“About five miles away or so.”

Carlisle sighed. “We can’t go now; they’ve already got our scent.” 

“I can’t see them,” Sydney said. “Can you hear them, Stan?”

Stan shook his head and walked over to Richie and Eddie. Eddie, until this moment, had forgotten that Sydney could read the future, but he looked to Stan and said, “What’s going on?”

“Others. Other vampires.” 

“Do you know them?” Richie asked. 

“No.” He leaned closer to them, grabbed each of their hands. “They’re not vegetarians, either.” 

The Cullens all amassed together, hiding Eddie and Richie from sight. Stan looked at each of them and said, “It’s okay, it’s alright. We’re just being cautious.”

And a few minutes later, three vampires walked through the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also didn't do too hot on my ap calc exam today Eddie
> 
> I don't know much about baseball but you're reading twilight/IT fanfic so you probably don't either


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a game of baseball, a group of other vampires come across Stan and his family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is shit sorry

The three vampires were as gorgeous as all of the Cullen-pale and elegant, with their every move as smooth as butter. As they approached, the Cullens all moved back, and Stan’s grip on Eddie grew tighter. 

Their eyes were red. Eddie wondered briefly how they fit in with humans, as the Cullens’ eyes were all brown or something like it, but he realized that they didn’t need to worry about who they were going to eat. He swallowed his dinner and leaned into Stan. 

All three of them looked them over, and one of the men walked to Carlisle. They shook hands, and Carlisle asked, “Where are you coming from?”

“British Columbia,” he said. “We needed a bit of a change, you know.”

“Of course.”

The woman looked past Bill to Eddie and said, “Interesting.” 

Esme’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

“Odd that you would keep one so long.” She looked at all of them. “And how will he feed all of you? He’s so small.”

Eddie thought his arm would fall off from how tight Stan was holding it. He didn’t move it, and Stan said, “He’s a friend.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And what is he?” She motioned towards Richie, who the other two men had been staring at for a while now. “A new breed of snack? Or just another friend?” 

“A friend.”

“Of course.” 

Carlisle smiled. “We appreciate meeting you, but we must request that you keep a wide berth of our area, about two hundred miles, if you don’t mind. We’d prefer not to overhunt. Suspicion and all that.”

The taller man nodded. “We understand.” His eyes hadn’t left Richie, except for to sneak a glance at Eddie. 

They shook hands once more, and when they left, Stan whipped around and ran towards the trees. He was still holding on to both Richie and Eddie, and he was going so fast that Eddie worried he’d hit a tree, rip his arm out of his socket. 

None of this occurred, and they arrived at their house soon. Stan’s eyes were wide, and he said, “Fuck fuck fuck,” under his breath. He pulled the two of them inside, and the family stood around after locking the door, Sydney standing guard in front of it. 

Eddie let out a breath and said, “What is going on?”

“You know how there are bad vampires, ones that’ll drink your blood?” Stan said. “Them. That’s them, fuck.”

“So they want to kill us.”

“Yes.”

“C-could we hide them?” Bill asked. 

“No, they’ve got their scent now.”

“So what’re we going to do?” Richie asked. 

Carlisle shook his head. “Have to throw them off. The best thing to do is split them up, and three of us guard each of them.” 

Eddie inhaled and fought the urge to reach towards Richie. He sagged towards Stan, who moved his arm to around Eddie’s shoulders. 

“Where can we take them?” Esme asked. 

“I was thinking take one of them east. Maybe take Eddie-“

“No, they’ll figure that out,” Stan said. “That’s the obvious place.”

“Which may be why they won’t check there.” 

Eddie looked at Stan. “Where?” 

“Phoenix, to stay with your mom. Or say you’re staying there, and actually take a room at a Ramada or something.”

“And you’re just going to put my mom in danger? Won’t they come after her? What about my dad?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Richie said. “What about mine?”

Carlisle sighed. “Yours will be fine, Richie. If they cross into La Push, there are much bigger issues than this, because then we’re at war. As for you, Eddie, your dad should be fine. It’s best if he doesn’t know about this. Your mother should be alright as well, as long as you don’t tell her anything.” 

“Am I just supposed to leave? How am I supposed to explain that to my dad? He’ll come after me and then they’ll catch him and-“ Inhaler inhaler _inhaler where the fuck was his inhaler_? He was going to die, but he found it in his right pocket and took a puff from it. 

“Wait, won’t they just follow us?” Richie said. “Why are we running if they’re just going to get us there?” 

“Throw them off, protect Forks,” Stan said. “But they will still have your scent.”

“Why not send them other directions?” Sydney asked. “One or two of us wear their clothes, get their scent, and go in the opposite direction to throw them off.”

Carlisle nodded. “Yes, that may work. Stan, you and maybe Bill go up there.”

Eddie’s grip on Stan tightened. He didn’t want them all three separated, wanted at least two of them to be together. “Why does it need to be Stan?” 

“He’s been around the two of you longest, so he smells the most like you.” 

Fuck, alright. Alright alright alright. It would be fine. 

They got a piece of paper and drafted two letters for Richie and Eddie’s dads. They both stated that the three of them went to a festival (as if they were festival people, but it sounded good) and it was out in the desert so DON’T CALL WE WON’T ANSWER. 

Richie was going to go east with Carlisle and Sydney, somewhere to be determined; Stan and Bill were going north; and Eddie was going south, to Phoenix, with Esme and new Stan. 

“Isn’t that the first place they’ll look?” Stan had said. “Of course that’s where he’ll go, that’s where his mother is.”

“And perhaps we can trick them,” Carlisle said. “They won’t think we’re stupid enough to do that.”

Eddie was fine with it until he was in the backseat of a Porsche right behind new Stan. Richie was away; Stan was away. He had kissed each of them quickly on the lips, seeing Stan's family pointedly look away to give them some semblance of privacy. He leaned into the window, watching the road pass by at eighty miles per hour ( _why were all vampires so impatient?_ ), when his phone buzzed. 

Richie sent into the chat: HEY FUCKERS 

IS IT BAD 2 SEND THIS

Stan: Shouldn’t be. I can’t see how they’d be able to track our phones. 

Richie: RAD 

Richie: SEXT TIME 

Eddie quickly typed: do not send anything ill get arrested for child pornography

Richie: IM NOT A CHILD

Eddie: yeah you are

Stan: Yes you are. 

Richie: well o course u gonna say that stan u a billion

years old

A few minutes later, Stan sent: I am really sorry about this. 

Richie: wat about

Stan: The vampires and possible reveal of your species. 

Richie: wait is that an option

Stan: Possibly. They don’t know what you are. I doubt if they get a hold of you that they’ll kill you, just poke and prod you. 

Richie: wonderful news

Eddie: can we change the subject to something good

where are you all at rn

Stan: South Yukon. 

Richie: already??????

bitch y’all zoomin

we’re in uhhhh idaho I think

montana maybe

Eddie: we’re in napa valley 

Richie: bud u are NOT zoomin

Eddie: no 

Stan: How’re you all doing?

Eddie: alright

Richie: vibin 

feel cute, might fall asleep, idk 

Eddie: you are cute so 

Stan: Gay 

Richie: gay

Eddie: you’re my boyfriends shut up 

yea imma sleep too sorry stan

Stan: It’s ok. Love you. 

Eddie: love you too

Richie: love you too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW its been like 2000 years since ive posted. but in my defense uhhhhh,,, I had ap exams and also im depressed 
> 
> vibe check


End file.
